A Better Place and Time
by orange-sunshiine
Summary: Ichabod Crane ends up in 2012 and has to cope with his new surroundings. Thankfully he is taken in by two nice people. Based on 1999 movie. Used to be titled "Adopting Ichabod". Rated to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

_Part 1_

"Steve! Holy crap, Steve, get out here!" Angela yelled as she kneeled down next to the prostrate man.

Steve came running out the front door, dressed camouflage shorts and a black t shirt.

"What?" he asked, looking around nervously. His eyes settled at the black mass lying on the ground in front of him.

"I came out to water the plants and found him right here on the porch!" ,Angela exclaimed. She reached down and touched the man's neck, feeling for a pulse.

"He's still alive... I think he's just unconscious. What should we do?"

Steven looked the man over. He was a small man, smaller than Steve, and his clothing looked rather dated.

"I guess... bring him inside. We can't just leave him out here. I'll clear off the sofa, then I'll help you bring him in."

Angela nodded in agreement, then turned her attention back to the poor human lying before her. His raven black hair had spilled into his pale face, and she gently wiped some of the strands away.

A few moments later, she and her husband had managed to get the man inside and lying down in what looked like a comfortable position.

"His clothes look so old... eighteenth century style," Angela noted, "Very strange..."

"Yes. Do you think he's a drunk? Maybe he got lost over here?"

Angela shrugged, "I don't smell any alcohol on him. But that doesn't mean anything. Help me get him into the recovery position just in case."

Steve did as he was told, pulling Ichabod onto his side. "I guess we just wait it out from here, monitor him in case he gets worse" he said, after they'd finished. "He doesn't have any weapons on him... so I doubt he is much of a threat."

Angela shook her head, "No. I don't think he is either. Besides, you've got the .38 upstairs if need be."

_Part 2_

It was another two hours before the man finally cracked his eyes open. The first thing he noticed was that his vision was very blurry. But when everything came into focus, he saw that a woman was sitting next to him, holding a cold compress on his forehead. She had shoulder length black wavy

hair, and a heart shaped face... and was wearing... trousers?

"Wh-Where am I?" Ichabod choked out, starting to feel extremely nervous. His surroundings seemed completely unfamiliar.

"You're in Queens. We found you passed out on our porch."

Ichabod took a deep breath, "B-but.. but I was in Sleepy Hollow! How am I here? Who are you?" he demanded. Ichabod then realized that his hands were shaking, and he hoped the woman wouldn't notice it.

"Shh, shh. Relax. We're not going to hurt you," the woman said, completely ignoring his question. Ichabod mentally sighed when he saw that she was focused on his hands.

Suddenly, another person, a man, with long brown hair, glasses, and a beard came into view. The woman gently placed a hand on Ichabod's chest, "I don't know how you got here, as I said, we just found you outside, unconscious. My name is Angela, and that is my husband, Steven We just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Ichabod didn't answer. He felt increasingly overwhelmed by all of this.

Steven walked over and kneeled next to the sofa, "You're okay. Don't panic," he said, when he noticed Ichabod was starting to hyperventilate, "We really mean you no harm. What's your name, anyway?"

"Ich-Ichabod Cr-Crane," Ichabod whispered, his whole body now shaking uncontrollably.

"Alright, well, you really need to calm down. We can take you to the hospital if you're hurt..." Angela replied. She began running her hand soothingly through his hair. It'd been an instinctive, reaction.

The action reminded Ichabod of his mother; she used to do the same thing when he was upset as a child. It made him calm a bit, and at least his legs stopped shaking.

"Hurt?" Ichabod asked, somewhat confused, "My head only hurts..."

Angela turned to Steven, "Can you get him some Tylenol and water?" she asked.

"Sure," the man answered, walking away.

"I'm going to give you some Tylenol to make your head feel better, okay? You probably hit it when you fell."

"T-Tylenol?" Ichabod questioned, once again giving a confused look.

Angela raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, you know, the medication. Makes headaches feel better, brings down fevers?"

Ichabod shook his head, the action making him slightly dizzy, "I dont understand."

"I.. err," Angela struggled for words, "Okay, well, just trust me, it will make you feel better."

Steven returned with two Tylenol and a glass of water and handed them to

Angela, who placed the pills in Ichabod's hand. "Put these on your tongue," she instructed, "Then drink some water to swallow them down." She helped him sit up a bit, so he would have an easier time swallowing.

Ichabod slowly did as he was told, having a bit of difficulty has he tried to keep t he glass of water steady. Angela said nothing, but helped him hold it up to his lips as he swallowed most of it down.

"Good job," Angela said, "Now, why don't you just relax a bit. When your head feels better in a few minutes, we can talk about everything rationally and figure out what's going on, alright?" she flashed Ichabod a soft, reassuring smile.

The word 'rational' stuck out to Ichabod - it was a word he liked very much - and it made him feel better.

"Alright," he agreed.

_Part 3_

True to Angela's word, the Tylenol did take Ichabod's headache away within a few moments. He was rather amazed by it, and made a mental note to study it, but knew that there were more pressing issues to deal with right now.

"You ready to talk?" Angela asked, seeing Ichabod start to sit up.

"Yes," Ichabod replied.

Angela and Steven made their way over to the sofa and sat on the love seat across from Ichabod.

"Okay, so, what is the last thing you remember?" Steven started.

"I was in Sleepy Hollow... in the Western Woods... with Young Masbeth. We'd just gone into a cave to see the witch when the world started to spin, and I guess I fainted then," Ichabod said, blushing at the last line.

"Hmm. A witch?" Angela asked, curiously.

Ichabod nodded, "Yes, the witch in the Western Woods."

Angela raised an eyebrow.

"Alright," Steven said, mustering all of his strength to keep a straight face.

Before he could ask another question, Ichabod noted that Steven was wearing clothes much different from his own.

"Why are you dressed that way?" Ichabod asked, before realizing how rude it sounded. "I-I apologize- I just meant, what you are wearing is not the current style, so I am just curious..." he trailed off, his face turning red.

"We were actually about to ask you the same thing," Angela replied, "Your clothes look rather old. Are you a re-enactor of some type?"

"Re-enactor?" Ichabod repeated, "These are the clothes I wear every day..."

Suddenly an idea struck Angela. Perhaps this man was a bit off his rocker,

and thought he was living in a different time period.

"What year is it?" she asked.

"1799, of course," Ichabod replied.

"And who is president of the United States?"

"John Adams."

"Who commanded the the Contintental Army during the war?"

"George Washington - Why are you asking me these questions?" Ichabod said, sounding a bit annoyed.

"I just wanted to see what time you thought- what time you lived in," Angela replied.

Now it was Ichabod's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"And I suppose that we are now in another year?"

Angela nodded, "The year is 2012."

It was then that Ichabod truly took notice of his surroundings. In front of the sofa was a large box with moving images on it. In the other room, where Steven had been, was another box, that he had spent time looking at. Different images had appeared there too. The rooms were lit... but not by candles or sunlight!

It was all too much. Ichabod simply sighed as his eyes rolled back and he fainted again.


	2. Chapter 2

_Part 4_

"Off the record, if you take him to the ER they're going to put him in the psych ward," Lisa, Angela's friend explained. Lisa was a nurse by profession, and Angela had called her when Ichabod had fainted.

"Do you think he needs medical treatment?" Angela asked, looking over at the Ichabod, who was still laying on the couch, perfectly still. He was breathing in and out very slowly.

"Probably. I mean, if he's acting like he lives in the 18th century, shaking uncontrollably and passing out, there's probably something wrong. Maybe he's off his meds," Lisa offered.

Just then, Ichabod began to stir.

"Oh!", Angela exclaimed, "He's waking up. I should go."

"Angela!" Lisa said, stopping the other woman before she could hang up, "Call me if he does anything weird. Weirder. You get it."

"Yeah, sure."

"Promise me."

"Promise. I have to go. Thank you."

Angela hit the 'off' button on her phone, and made her way to the sofa. Ichabod was rubbing his eyes with one hand. He sighed loudly when he caught sight of Angela.

"I'm still here?" he whined, rubbing his eyes again, "This dream just doesn't end..."

"I'm afraid you're not dreaming," Angela said, frowning.

Hearing the conversation, Steve popped his head into the room at that moment.

"Awake I see," he said, addressing Ichabod, "How are you feeling?"

"Insane," Ichabod mumbled, "I must've snapped... must be the end, now, probably totally lost my mind..."

Angela grimaced at that line.

"Ichabod," she began, "Are you on any type of medication? Perhaps.. antipsychotic medication?"

Might as well see if Lisa's theory held any weight.

"I'm sorry?" Ichabod asked, "I don't understand."

"Do.. Do you have a disorder, perhaps? Are you on anything to help?"

"I'm not literally insane, if that's what you're implying," Ichabod said, angrily, "I don't know what's going on here but I'm very logical, actually, and..." he stopped, realizing he was ranting. "I was merely being sarcastic before," he finished.

"Alright, alright," Steven replied, "We were just asking."

Ichabod crossed his arms, "I'm not lying. I'm not insane. I don't know why I'm here."

"So the last thing you remember is being in the woods, and feeling dizzy?" Steven asked.

Ichabod considered for a moment before answering, "Yes. Well, feeling dizzy, and seeing that odd light near the tree."

"A light? Like a circular light? What color was it?" Steven was becoming interested. As a professor of Particle Physics, his mind started racing with potential, albeit far fetched theories.

"Blue. It was odd, it lit up the air, seemed to be pulling the surrounding environment in. Then.. then it went black."

"Interesting," Steven said. He turned to Angela, "This could explain things."

"It can?" both Ichabod and Angela answered at the same time.

Steve nodded, "I _think_ so. I have to go to my office, talk to Pat. He's more into the Quantum aspect. But if it helps...I believe you, Ichabod."

Ichabod smiled to himself, feeling as if he'd won some small battle.

Angela didn't really know what to say. Her husband was one of the most honest, rational, intelligent people she knew. If he trusted this man, than it was her instinct to do the same.

"Okay," she finally said, "If..Steven thinks he can figure this out, than you can stay here now until everything is fixed," she offered. Steve nodded in agreement at her statement.

Ichabod suddenly stopped smiling, "I don't want to be a burden to you," he replied, softly, looking back down at his hands.

"You won't be. We have extra room," Angela reassured him, "Besides, if what you're saying is true... you will have nowhere to go, anyway."

Ichabod frowned, "I suppose you're right."

"We can set up a place for you to sleep." She turned back to Steven, "Are you going to the office, now, then?"

Her husband didn't even answer. He was already walking out the door towards his car, talking excitedly to his colleague on his cell phone.

_Part 5_

Steven ended up being gone pretty late into then night. Whatever theory he had needed, in his opinion, to be thoroughly discussed and analyzed with his colleague.

That left Angela and Ichabod alone.

It was awkward for the first hour or so. Angela mainly answered whatever questions Ichabod had about the current era. For instance, what the television was (something that shows pictures and tells stories), what the computer was (a box that contained various information - the concept of 'the internet' seemed to hard to explain at that point). There was also a brief tour and discussion about the bathroom, and how the toilet and shower worked.

At some point, Ichabod's scientific, analytical side kicked in, and he seemed to be interested in exploring these new tools. Angela let him flip channels for awhile before showing him how to pull up Firefox and type in a search query.

Around ten pm, though, Angela noticed that her guest was beginning to get tired. Ichabod's eyelids were drooping, and he kept yawning, though he was trying to hide it.

"If you're tired I can set up the futon for you," Angela finally offered.

"Futon?" Ichabod asked.

"The couch in the sitting room. It folds out into a bed."

"I don't..." Ichabod started, but then saw how Angela was looking at him, as if to say 'it's not a burden so don't ask'. "... alright, thank you," he finished.

Angela smiled, "Not a problem. I'll be right back with some bedding." She went upstairs, and returned a few minutes later holding sheets, a comforter, a couple of pillows, and an old set of Steven's pajamas. She put everything down, and quickly set to making up her guests' bed.

"You can come in now," she said, once everything had been squared away.

Ichabod looked at the bed and half smiled. "Thank you," he said, yawning again.

"I um. Brought down a pair of Steve's old PJs. Pajamas. What people wear to sleep. I know you guys usually wear night shirts or whatnot. These may be a bit more comfortable..." she said, handing him the pile of gray and blue flannel clothing.

Ichabod examined the articles of clothing. It was soft and warm, unlike his current clothing, but he didn't want his hostess to watch him undress. Finally, he looked back up at Angela. "Thank you, again."

He was still staring at her, looking rather embarrassed, when Angela remembered that she should probably leave him to get ready.

"I'll, uh, be in the other room. Let me know when you're done."

He nodded, and Angela left, closing the door to the room behind her.

A minute later, Ichabod, now dressed in the PJs, stuck his head through the door. "I'm finished."

Angela smiled at him, and walked back into the sitting room. She had to admit that Ichabod looked adorable in the clothes she'd provided. They were a bit small on Steven but fit Ichabod fairly well.

She fluffed up one of the pillows before helping him sit, and putting it behind his head, then pulled the covers up to his chest.

Angela then took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Ichabod looked up at her, the nervousness, and tiredness, still obvious on his face.

Angela cupped his cheek, "Now don't worry. I know this is scary... but remember, you are safe here. I'm sure my husband is working on a way to get you back right now. You have the best luck, managing to find the house of a physicist and a history teacher!" she said, jokingly.

Ichabod swallowed, then forced a smile. He pulled the covers up to his chin. "Thank you..." he replied, softly.

Angela looked the man over again. He looked so sweet and innocent. She couldn't help it; she bent down and kissed him on the forehead.

"I'll be asleep right upstairs if you need anything at all. If not, we'll see you in the morning."

With that, she turned off the light, and made her way upstairs.

_Part 6_

Ichabod was tired, and he really did want to sleep. But it seemed like every time he closed his eyes, he'd envision something terrifying. Usually had something to do with the horseman, or the witch, or Brom Bones, though occasionally his thoughts were pervaded with the idea that he might be trapped forever where he was. Besides that, every sound in the creaky old house made him want to jump out of his skin in fright.

The young man lay there for hours. At some point, he heard the front door open and close, and footsteps. At first the sound and put him on guard, but then he realized that it was probably just Steven returning home. The footsteps went up the stairs, towards where Angela said that they slept, so that confirmed his theory.

Ichabod really wished that he could turn on the light. He wanted to. It would've made him feel better. But he didn't know if it would do anything else when he touched it, and he didn't want to annoy Angela or Steven by leaving it on all night if he wasn't supposed to. So he lay there in the dark.

After what felt like forever, Ichabod managed to fall into restless sleep.

_Part 7_

Angela had slept through Steven coming home, taking a shower, and going to bed. He'd come in sometime around one am. The sound of shrieking and items being throw did wake her though, a little after that.

The sounds seemed like they were coming downstairs, so Angela raced to the sitting room only to find Ichabod in the throws of an apparent nightmare.

Sighing, she came to his side, and gently rubbed his arms.

"Ichabod!", she said, shaking him a bit, "Ichabod, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Ichabod's eyes shot open and he bolted up, shaking.

Angela wrapped her arms around him and held him in a hug, gently rubbing his back. "Shhhh, shhh. You're okay. You just had a bad dream."

When he seemed to calm down, Angela reached over and flicked on one of the lights. With the room now lit, she could see tear streaks running down Ichabod's face.

Angela frowned, "Come, now," she said grabbing a tissue from the box on the nearby coffee table, "No need to cry. What were you dreaming about?" She began dabbing the tears off of his face.

"The horseman... but he was here, in this world..." Ichabod whimpered, unable to continue. The dream had seemed so realistic...

"Horseman?" she asked, confused.

"The headless horseman," Ichabod clarified, as if that would explain everything.

"Oh..kay," Angela replied. _Of course, if there were witches, there had to be headless people_, she thought to herself sarcastically. But this wasn't the time for that.

"I'm sure whatever there was in your world has not followed you here," she said.

Ichabod nodded, slowly. He sniffled, and Angela handed him a clean tissue. "Blow your nose."

Ichabod did as told. Angela pulled him into a hug again and began rubbing his back, slowly. The action was very soothing. Soon enough Ichabod's breathing evened out, and Angie pulled away.

"I.. I'm quite sorry for disturbing you," he finally said.

Angela shrugged, "Its alright. You couldn't help it. You were afraid. It is understandable."

Ichabod nodded, but blushed anyway.

"Would you like some warm milk? We can watch the telly for a bit until you're tired again."

"Yes, please," he murmured, staring down at his hands. He still felt rather embarrassed. Here he was, a grown man, crying over nightmares!

Angela nodded and got up, making her way to the kitchen.

She returned a few moments later, holding a mug full of warm milk, and found Ichabod in the same position, sitting up and staring down at his hands.

She handed him the glass. "This will calm you down. Let's go to the tv room."

He quietly followed her in, and the pair sat on the sofa. Angela switched on the television and found a cartoon show.

Ichabod watched the show intently, and took small sips of his milk. Angela wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Eventually Ichabod finished the drink, and his eyelids began to droop. Angela took the mug from him, and placed it on the table. Without thinking, Ichabod rested his head on Angie's shoulder. He felt comfortable around her, and he'd moved instinctively, subconsciously feeling that Angie would likely keep him safe.

Angie didn't try to move him for a few moments. Ichabod looked so sweet, sitting there, cuddled up close to her. But when she saw he was really nodding off, she decided to say something. "C'mon, lets get you back to bed. Would it make you feel better to sleep upstairs with us? We have an air mattress we can put in the bedroom," Angela suggested.

Ichabod frowned tiredly, "I'm not a child."

Angela shrugged, "Just figured perhaps you would feel safer in the same room with other people. You can sleep on the futon then, no problem."

Ichabod bit his lip, reconsidering. The prospect of being alone in the dark wasn't too nice. "Well..maybe it would help... I wouldn't wake you up again."

"Probably not. Let's go, then," she said, leading him up the stairs.

Ichabod padded behind her, feeling rather embarrassed.

"Steve," Angela called out softly, causing her husband to stir.

"Huh?" he replied, voice thick with sleep.

"Steve, can you please go get the air mattress from the attic? Ichabod is going to spend the night up here."

"Huh... oh, okay," he said, throwing his feet over the side of the bed. His shoulder length hair was spread in various directions, and he grabbed around for a few seconds trying to find his glasses. Finally he got up. "You okay?" he asked as he passed Ichabod, who was currently standing in the corner, staring at the ground.

"Umm.." he replied, nervously, not really sure what to say.

"He's having a hard time adjusting to everything, so I offered to let him stay in our room." Angela said, throwing a comforting smile at Ichabod.

"Oh, okay,"Steve said. He was really too tired to question this right now. "Be right back."

Steve returned a moment later, mattress in hand. "Just give me a moment to set it up. Angie, get the sheets?"

Angela nodded and walked to the closet, where she pulled out a box full of various blankets.

The bed was one of those self inflating ones, so it was set up on the other side of the room shortly there after. Angela quickly moved to put a set of light blue sheets on it, and placed a black comforter on top.

"Come on over," Angela said, motioning for Ichabod to come by. Ichabod slowly walked over. Angela pulled the covers back, allowing the man to get in.

He frowned as he sat on the bed, and laid down.

"You alright there?" Steve asked, as he got back into his and Angela's bed.

"Mhmm," Ichabod answered, pulling the covers up to his chin once again.

"Good. Have nice dreams," Steve said, lying down. He really wanted to get back to sleep.

Angela smiled and leaned in and kissed Ichabod on the forehead once again. "No worries. Just relax and sleep. We'll figure everything out," she whispered.

Ichabod nodded, "Goodnight, Angela," he murmured.

Ichabod had no more nightmares that evening.


	3. Chapter 3

_Part 8_

Early the next morning, Angela and Steve snuck out of the bedroom before Ichabod woke up. They needed some time to discuss things out of his earshot. It was a Sunday, anyway, and they hoped that perhaps their visitor would sleep in.

"Did you and Pat figure it out?" Angie asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Sort of yes, sort of no. We have a theory... the problem would be, how to recreate it for a test. I mean, we're talking a hundred thousand dollars in equipment, not to mention the labor costs. We'd have to hire contractors to build a machine, and we'd have to tweak it just right to get the molecules moving fast enough, nevermind creating the correct molecules inside..."

"But this would've had to happen naturally for him to come here?" Angie asked, "Couldn't you figure out how that happened?"

"Believe me, we're trying!", Steve answered, "Its... hard to explain. Really, if all that magic stuff he was talking about was true, it would actually make more sense than this occurring naturally."

"Hmm. Do you think it's possible to get the equipment you need?"

Steve sighed, and finished off his coffee. "Pat and I are going to apply to the college for a research grant. Usually those can go up to fifty or sixty grand, pending on the project. If we can get that, we'll apply to other organizations, see if anyone can help out with a few thousand here or there."

"That means..." Angie started, but Steven cut her off.

"Yes. We probably won't be able to do anything for a few weeks, at minimum."

"So he's going to stay here, then."

"Well what else are we supposed to do?" Steve asked, "Just drive him out to Newark and leave him on the corner? Hope he doesn't find his way back?"

"Calm down," Angie said, "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just trying to figure out what needs to be done."

"I apologize for interrupting your lives," came a voice from the door. Both Steve and Angie turned to see Ichabod standing behind them, still wearing the pajamas Angela had given him. Angela blushed, and Steve rolled his eyes.

"No, no," the woman started, "I didn't mean it like that. We're only trying to figure out how to set up the house so you're more comfortable."

"Also... we'll have to go to work this week, which means you'll be alone," Steven added. "At least, I have to go in. No way they'll give me a grant if I'm absent."

Angela looked at her husband, "I can take off tomorrow, stay here," she offered.

"I can be alone. I won't touch anything," Ichabod replied, softly.

"That's not the issue, the issue is that this is a whole new world to you and it's not right leaving you alone when you don't know what's going on," Angela said, seriously. "It's not fair to you."

"You have a lot of vacation time though, right Ang?" Steven asked.

"About a week left. I mean, I could take the whole week, if you think it'll be necessary."

"I really don't want to disrupt your schedule," Ichabod replied, "Why not just show me everything you can today and tomorrow and then see what happens?"

Angela shrugged, "That can work too."

Ichabod nodded in agreement.

"Anyway," Angela sighed, "Do you want some breakfast? Come sit down," she said, motioning to the third seat at the table. Ichabod slowly walked over, gently pulled out the chair, and joined them.

"I would like some food," he replied, hands folded politely on his lap.

Steve, who was now looking at a newspaper, grunted in reply.

"We usually eat cereal in the morning," she told her guest, "I don't know if you had that in your time. I would guess you'd have had oatmeal?"

Ichabod nodded, "Yes, I've had that before."

"We have that, and a few different choices cereal wise," she said, pulling out several boxes. "Lucky Charms, Corn Flakes, Cheerios, Captain Crunch," she began reading off the labels.

"Is that... a leprechaun?" Ichabod asked, staring at the box of Lucky Charms.

"Yes. It's a children's cereal. Want to try it?"

"Alright," Ichabod replied.

Angela smiled at him, and poured a bowl of the colorful cereal.

"What are those?" Ichabod asked, poking at the marshmellow shapes.

"Sugar."

"Okay."

Angela poured some milk over the cereal for him, then handed the box to Steven.

Carefully, Ichabod took a bite of it. He cringed when he finished swallowing. "This is SO sweet. You eat this regularly?"

"Usually only kids do. But Steven is like a big kid," Angela replied, jokingly.

"You let children eat this?"

"Well, WE don't, but a lot of parents do."

"I see."

"You can have some Cheerios, then. Those aren't as sweet. Here," she said, placing the mostly untouched bowl of sugary goodness in front of her husband, "You can have this."

"Yay!" Steven replied, happily digging into it. Ichabod stared at him with a look of disgust on his face, but said nothing.

Breakfast was a pretty quiet affair after that. Steve read his paper. Ichabod ate his Cheerios, which he seemed to like way more than the Lucky Charms, and Angie had several cups of coffee (as per her normal morning routine).

"Perhaps we should take Ichabod for a drive today, show him the neighborhood," Steve suggested, once he'd finished his breakfast. He glanced over at Ichabod, who looked a bit confused.

"In a carriage?" Ichabod asked.

"People don't use carriages anymore," Angela answered, "We drive cars, which are like horseless carriages. You'll see it when we go outside."

"Ah."

"And yes, Steve, I think that would be a good idea. I could take Ichabod through town."

"Um," Ichabod started, "I forgot to ask last night, but am I still in Sleepy Hollow? Just, the future version of the town?"

"You're actually in Queens, New York. We're a few hours from Sleepy Hollow."

"Good to know the colony still exists," Ichabod said, smirking.

"We call them states now," Angela said, returning a smile, "And by the way, there's 50 of them, just so you know."

"Fifty..." Ichabod repeated, "We spread that far out?"

"Yep. Took over most of the continent, except Mexico and Canada."

"You'll have to tell me about how this happened."

"Oh, I will. There's a lot to go over. Like I said, I'm a History teacher. It'll be my pleasure to fill you in."

_ Part 9_

Prior to going for the drive, Steve showed Ichabod how to use the shower once again, and Angie pulled out some of Steve's old clothes in an attempt to find a more modern outfit for Ichabod. She eventually settled on an old pair of dark blue jeans that were too small for her husband, but looked like they'd fit Ichabod, and a black button down short sleeved shirt. She'd have to take him for underwear and some new clothes later, she surmised, but it would do for now.

She left the outfit in the bedroom, on Ichabod's little bed. After his shower, Ichabod came downstairs wearing it.

The jeans were a bit tight, but the shirt was baggy enough to make up for it. His hair was still dripping wet from the water, dark wisps of it falling in front of his face. She had to admit, he looked extremely cute.

"You look nice!" she said, seeing him in the clothes, "How do they feel? Do you want a towel for your hair?"

Ichabod shrugged shyly. He wasn't used to women giving him compliments. Or anyone really giving him compliments, for that matter.

"Different... but good. These clothes are more comfortable than mine."

"Good. Well, soon as your hair is dry, we can head out."


	4. Chapter 4

_Part 10_

From the moment he saw it, Ichabod was interested in Angela's Dodge Challenger. It was gun metal gray, and had leather seats, and it looked cool even to someone who had spent most of their life in the eighteenth century.

"How does it work?" Ichabod asked, as Angela opened the door to let him into the passenger seat.

"I'll put the key in, release the break and drive it using the steering wheel and breaks. But if you mean, how does it run, it works using gasoline and a motor."

Seeing Angela buckle her seat belt, Ichabod reached for his and followed suit.

"How fast can it go?" he asked, after she had driven down the street. Angela was intentionally driving slowly, not knowing how her nervous guest would react to being in the car.

"Well, if I gunned it, and kept the gas down, I could probably get it to about 170."

"170 miles?"

"It would go 170 miles per hour. But we won't be going that fast. Speed limit's 65."

"So if you went top speed, how long would it take you to get from here to Sleepy Hollow? Or New York City?"

"Hmm," Angela considered the question as she turned a corner, "Assuming there was no other traffic on the road, probably 10 minutes to get to New York, maybe an hour and a half to get to Sleepy Hollow. Maybe two."

"Interesting… it took me three days of travel to get there from New York," Ichabod replied.

"Cars are a lot faster than horses."

Ichabod got quiet after that, spending time staring out the window instead of talking. Only when Angela pointed something out did he ask more questions. She drove passed the local high school, the local McDonalds, the diner, and a few parks. At some point, they'd passed a few teenagers walking along the street. That peeked Ichabod's interest.

"Is that the style, now?" he asked, staring at the boy wearing jeans that were about halfway down his thighs, and the girls who were wearing short shorts and very revealing tank tops.

"Unfortunitely."

"Why do the boys allow their breeches to be exposed?"

"Because they're morons."

"And the girls… their husband are alright with them dressing so provactively?"

"They probably aren't married. People don't get married as young as they did in your day. Usually women wait until their late 20s, early 30s before settling down."

"..Interesting. They don't want children, then?"

Angela sighed, "They might still have children. People live longer now. Into their nineties, sometimes past 100, so they often don't have kids until they are in their 30s."

"I see."

"Do you have children, back in your time?" Angela asked.

"No."

"Are you married?"

"No… women don't generally take an interest in me."

"Oh."

"I haven't seen any children at your house, so I assume you and Steven do not have any?"

"Nope. Don't want them, either."

Ichabod raised an eyebrow. He considered the thought to be unusual; in his time, almost every married couple reproduced, if only to get more hands to help work.

"May I ask why? If I'm not being too rude..."

"We would prefer to focus on our careers and spend the money we would have to spend on children on ourselves. We want to travel. We want to have a nice house, and nice cars, and all of that."

"That's honest," Ichabod answered. "To be truthful, I never particularly wanted them myself. I've just assumed that if I were to marry, my wife would expect it."

"If your wife truly loved you she would surely not pressure you into having a family, if you did not want one."

"It is a different time, there are different customs…But it doesn't matter. I doubt I'll ever find a wife."

"You're too hard on yourself. Really. You're attractive and intelligent. Good combination."

Ichabod smiled slightly, and blushed again. "Th-thank you."

"Just sayin'. And I'm not coming on to you or anything. You should think more highly of yourself."

"Alright."

"Okay."

The rest of the drive was spent in a somewhat awkward silence.

_Part 11_

That evening, Angela made dinner, and she, Steve, and Ichabod ate it in the living room while watching television.

Steve had chosen a sitcom - The Big Bang Theory - and Ichabod was trying to understand what it was about. Even if he didn't get it, he was happy at least. The two people with him had so far proven to be trustworthy and kind, and he felt safe around them. Just sitting there near them made him feel slightly less nervous than he usually was. Slightly.

After a few episodes, Ichabod began to look very sleepy.

"Do you want to go to bed?" Steve asked.  
Ichabod shrugged, then yawned, "I can stay up..." he said.

"You're tired. Go to sleep," Angela said. "Do you want to stay in our room again?"

Ichabod cast his gaze towards the ground, and didn't answer. He definitely felt better sleeping near others - it just made him feel protected, in some odd way, but he also felt embarrassed. He was nearly thirty years old. He shouldn't need to sleep in someone else's bedroom.

"It's fine if you want to," Angela added, seeing the look on Ichabod's face, "We're not judging you for it. If you feel better staying there, than stay."

"O..okay," Ichabod finally agreed, eyes still fixed on the ground.

Angela led him upstairs a minute later, and, after giving him some time to change into his PJs, she held up the covers so he could get into bed.

Sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, Angela brushed some of Ichabod's hair out of his face, and pulled the comforter up around his chest.

"We'll be up in a little while. We're going to watch a bit more television. If you need us, we're downstairs. Do you think you'll be able to get to sleep on your own?"

"Probably," Ichabod answered, honestly.

"Okay. Remember, there's nothing to be afraid of. You're safe here. Steven will find a way to get you home, but for now, you're welcome with us."

Ichabod nodded, and yawned again.

Angela leaned in and, like the night prior, gave him a kiss on the forehead. Ichabod couldn't help but smile as she did so.

"Have sweet dreams," she said, getting up. She turned off the lights and closed the door softly behind her.

Part 12

Ichabod slept in Angie and Steve's room for the next few nights. Neither one had the heart to kick him out. He looked so peaceful, all curled up in his blankets, and he didn't really bother anyone.

Angie had returned to work on Wednesday of that week, leaving Ichabod alone at the house. Of course, she left him instructions on how to use the microwave and stove should he want to make food, some money, in case he wanted to go out and buy it, and a key, in case he wanted to go for a walk.

Though he didn't openly admit it, Ichabod was unhappy about being left to his own devices. He still didn't truly know this world, and he was afraid of what might happen if Angela or Steven wasn't around to help him. He didn't want to bother them, though, by asking either to stay. He was an adult. He could take care of himself.

Still. Angela picked up on his tension, and so she programmed her cell phone number into the speed dial on the house line. It only took one quick lesson to show Ichabod how to use the phone.

"If you get nervous, or don't know what to do, just hit number 9 and call me," she had said. It made him feel a little better.

Part 13

Angela had been in the middle of her third period class when the phone had rang, and, recognizing her home phone number on the caller ID, she excused herself from the room for a moment. Picking up the phone, she was surprised to hear heavy breathing, and what sounded like... sobbing? on the other end.

"Ichabod?" she asked, quietly, as she stepped into the hallway, "Ichabod, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry..." he started, "I'm sorry. I can't. I can't be... here. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? Did something happen? Listen, there's no reason to apologize. Are you afraid of being alone? Is that the problem?"

"I'm sorry. I mean. I mean.." he took a deep breath, "y-yes."

Angela sighed silently to herself, "It's okay. Take another deep breath," she instructed, "And count to five. Then let it out."

Ichabod did as he was told.

"Do it again."

A few more times, and the constable was starting to feel better. Still, Angela didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone for the rest of the day, so she waited until the end of her class, and cited a personal emergency in order to leave early. Having a good record, no one questioned her, and another teacher took over the rest of her courses.

Angela made it home pretty quickly. She opened the door to find Ichabod in the corner of the sitting room, knees pulled up to his chest. She noticed he was still wearing his pajamas.

"Hey," she said, softly, as she made her way towards him. He looked up at her, eyes filled with tears, but said nothing.

Angela kneeled down so she was eye level with him. "Hey," she said again, resting a hand on his shoulder, "What's wrong?"

Ichabod looked at her, sadly. She could see that his eyes were once again red and puffy. "I.. I tried to turn on the lights, but they didn't work. And then.. and then there was a loud noise outside. Two of those cars came racing by. And there was yelling. People were yelling. God. I was afraid. I'm so sorry." And the tears began falling again.

Angela pulled him into a hug, letting him rest his head on her shoulder as he cried. She began rubbing his back gently, just as she had earlier in the week after his nightmare. "It's okay," she cooed, "It's a big scary world. It's new to you. It's okay."

"Aren't you angry?" he whispered. Angela barely heard it.

She pulled back for a second, looking Ichabod in the eyes. He refused to meet her gaze. "Why would I be angry?"

Ichabod didn't reply. He felt stupid. Absolutely stupid, calling this woman up at work, a woman who was younger than himself, all because he was afraid of some loud noises and the dark.

"You had to come home..." he finally said.  
Angela put her fingers under his chin, "Look at me," she replied.

He glanced up at her.

"I'm not angry. I understand why you're upset. It's my fault for leaving you here. You're obviously not ready to be alone. And that's okay. We'll figure something out, I promise."

Ichabod sniffed again, and Angela got up to get him a tissue.

After he blew his nose, Angela helped him stand up. "You look very tired," she stated.

Ichabod nodded. She was right. He felt completely drained mentally and physically from all the panic that had ensued. "Yes.."

"Why don't you go take a nap. I'll be here, and Steven will be back from the university in a few hours too. I won't leave, I promise."

"Can I stay down here?" Ichabod asked softly, "With you?"

"Yeah. Sure."

Angela led him to the sofa, where Ichabod promptly fell asleep, head resting on a pillow on her lap as she read a book.


	5. Chapter 5

_Part 14_

Being fairly intelligent people, Angela and Steven figured out two solutions to the problem with leaving Ichabod alone.

First, he needed treatment for his panic attacks. The way he reacted wasn't normal, even for someone in such a stressful situation, if only because he would panic at least once a day, and usually over nothing particularly stressing.

For that, Steven arranged for Ichabod to meet a psychiatrist. The only problem was that Ichabod had no insurance or real form of ID. So, they decided that Steven would go to the doctor, describe the symptoms Ichabod had, and hopefully get some medication.

Ichabod didn't seem too thrilled with it, but he knew that Steve and Angela had a better understanding of everything, and that they might have a point. Plus, it was of no cost to him.

The night before the appointment, Steven sat down with Ichabod and asked him to explain how he generally felt. The feelings of panic, a sense of a lack of control, etc. He tried to memorize everything the constable told him.

In the end, Steven answered the doctor's questions perfectly, and the doctor had diagnosed him with an anxiety disorder. He prescribed Paxil, hoping that would help.

Steven and Angela had debated this for a little while. Angela mentioned that Ichabod would probably go through withdrawal when he returned to his time, because he wouldn't be able to take an unlimited supply of the medication. Steve had replied that, for now, it was necessary, and that there was still time before he'd go back, anyway. Hopefully by then, the constable would be able to go without it.

Angela agreed, if only because she knew that neither of them could continue to miss work as they had been.

_Part 15_

The other answer to the problem with leaving Ichabod alone came in the form of two people named Krystal and Raymond. They were friends of Angie's, and happened to live right around the block in one of the local apartment complexes.

Angela had introduced them to Ichabod briefly one day when they'd stopped over, and Ichabod and Raymond had hit it off to an extent, as both had an interest in forensics.

Raymond, being on disability, didn't work, and Krystal usually worked the early shift at the diner. As a favor to Angie , who'd helped them out numerous times in the past, they'd offered to let Ichabod stay with them during the day.

Ichabod seemed to be alright with this. He found both of them to be interesting. He was fascinated by Krystal's many tattoos, and enjoyed talking to Raymond.

So it became routine each morning for Angela or Steven to drive Ichabod around the block to the four room apartment before going to work. Raymond would let him in, as Krystal was still at work usually, and would make breakfast for them.

Ray and Krystal also shared their apartment with Ray's brother and his girlfriend, so sometimes, they joined as well.

In the afternoons, Ray would teach Ichabod how to play video games, or would watch movies with him. Sometimes they'd go for short walks around the neighborhood or play with the three cats that also resided with them. When Krystal got home, she'd make everyone snacks, and they'd talk for awhile.

Steven had explained his theory on the situation at hand, and Ray, who was extremely open minded, believed him. Krystal seemed unsure, but didn't really question it. It did make for interesting conversations, though.

"How many pictures do you have on your body?" Ichabod had asked Krystal one day, staring in awe at the colorful drawings of flowers and butterflies adorning her arms.

"I have thirteen tattoos," she replied.

"How did they get there?"

"Well, the artist takes a tiny needle, and fills it with ink, and presses the ink into your skin," she explained. Ichabod cringed. He hated needles of any type.

"Are they permanent?"

"Yes, I'll have them forever."

"Wow.."

Krystal smiled. She really did enjoy Ichabod's reactions to new things.

Thankfully, the combination of anti-anxiety medication and always having someone around seemed to work. Ichabod seemed far less nervous. If anything, he seemed at ease as soon as he entered the apartment each day. Besides that, he knew that Krystal and Ray also had Angela and Steven's telephone numbers, and could call them if they needed to. That comforted him, it was something to hold onto during the day - knowledge that the people he lived with could be reached immediately if there was an emergency.

It did seem to bother Ichabod that Krystal, Ray, and their inlaws were so much younger than him, though. They were all closer to Angie's age (twenty six). To an extent, he felt like he was being babysat, and it hurt his pride that the people doing it were so much younger and more capable.

But it was what it was. It worked. He couldn't really complain. The couple fed him, talked to him, and always treated him kindly.

Often after work, Steven and Angie would join them for dinner at Krystal's apartment. Angie and Krystal would cook, while Steve, Ray, and Ichabod would talk amongst themselves in the other room. The food was always good, and Ichabod always found himself learning more and more about the people and world around him.


	6. Chapter 6

_Part 16_

One thing that Krystal had done, that Angie had failed to do, was take Ichabod shopping for clothes. Between Steven's harsh work schedule, the panic attacks, doctors and the like, Angie and her husband just hadn't found the time, besides some boxers and socks that Angie had picked up. Otherwise, Ichabod had been wearing a few old pairs of jeans and tee shirts that Steve had donated.

Of course, Krystal didn't use her own money. Angie and Steven had given her a couple hundred dollars with instructions to get Ichabod whatever he liked and needed.

So one afternoon, Krystal, Ray, and Ichabod set off in Krystal's little white Camry and headed over to the nearest department store.

Even though it was a weekday afternoon, the store was packed. There was some huge sale going on. The large crowds and confusing set up obviously made Ichabod nervous - Krystal could see it on his face as soon as they'd walked in. The medication prevented him from having a full scale panic attack, but he did feel a little better when Krystal wrapped an arm around his back, holding him close as they walked.

First, they stopped for some pants. The anti-anxiety meds had had the side effect of making Ichabod gain a slight amount of weight, so the ones he was currently wearing were too tight, and appeared to be uncomfortable. Krystal and Ray took a few moments to find something that might fit better, showing their choices to Ichabod and trying to gauge what he liked and didn't like.

After that, they'd gone to get some shirts. The ones that Steven had given him still fit, but were old and worn.

Finally they'd help him choose a pair of sneakers, which would undoubtedly be more comfortable than the boots he was always wearing, especially now that it was summer.

Ichabod didn't voice much of an opinion on things. He seemed more focused on trying to remain calm in the disorder that surrounded them. Krystal and Ray had guessed his tastes well, though, and in the end he'd come out of it with clothes that he'd have probably chosen anyway.

Once they'd gotten back to the car, and the doors were closed and it was quiet, Ichabod seemed much more calm.

Krystal turned and looked at the backseat, where Ichabod was sitting, as Ray started the car.

"Feeling better?" she asked, smiling.

Ichabod forced a smile back at her, "Yes, thank you."

"You did good in there," she said, "You didn't flip out at all. That's wonderful. Those meds are really helping it seems."

"They make things easier..."

"Well I'm sure Angie and Steven will be very happy to hear about this. They'll be very proud of you."

Ichabod smiled slightly, this time for real. The thought of making his guardians happy made him happy as well.

_Part 18_

"Oh my god, you look wonderful!" Angela exclaimed, as she walked into Krystal's apartment.

Ichabod was wearing one of his new outfits; a pair of black jeans, black and white sneakers, and a white shirt with dark blue sleeves.

Ichabod grinned, "Thank you... I didn't choose most of it, though."

Krystal rolled her eyes, "You had some input."

Krystal then turned to her friend. "Ang, you'd be really proud of Ichabod. He totally held his own in the store today, even though it was crowded. Didn't get upset at all."

Now it was Angie's turn to smile, "That's absolutely wonderful! Wow. Yes, I am really proud of you. It must've been difficult to put up with all of that commotion."

Ichabod blushed a little, "I was nervous still..."

"But he didn't panic," Krystal finished.

"You did a good job," Angela said. She moved to start setting the table in the kitchen, leaving Ichabod to watch.

"Where's Steven?" he asked, when she was almost done.

"He's at work. He got the grant money! And he got a few other colleges to invest as well! He says if all goes well they'll start building in another week."

"That's awesome!" both Krystal, and Ray, who had just walked into the room, said aloud.

Ichabod, however, just stood still. He felt his stomach drop. Everyone turned to him.

"You alright?" Angela asked, "I thought you'd be happy?"

"Huh? Oh... yes, I'm happy. That's wonderful news," Ichabod answered, though inside he was thinking something different. Yes, he wanted to go home, but at the same time, he was starting to enjoy life here, in this world, where for the first time in years he had friends - almost a family, even, that cared about him.

_Part 19_

Steven came home late that evening, finding Angie and Ichabod both asleep on the couch. The tv was still on, showing the the Tonight Show.

He quietly woke Ichabod up, wanting to make sure he took his medication.

Ichabod cracked his eyes open as Steve rubbed his shoulder.

"Oh," he said, realizing where he was, "I'm sorry... we fell asleep watching the television.."

Ichabod looked over towards Angie, who was still sleeping peacefully, curled up on the side of the couch, hugging a pillow.

"Don't be sorry. I just woke you up to make sure you took your Paxil."

"Oh... no, I forgot to take it."

Steve nodded, "I'll get it."

The physicist came back a moment later, holding a pill and a glass of water. He placed the pill in Ichabod's palm, gave him the water, and waited for him to swallow it.

"Thank you," the younger man said, stretching a bit.

"No problem. Do you want to go up to bed?"

Ichabod shook his head, "No, no. I'm awake now. I heard you got the grant you needed?"

"Yes," Steve replied. He looked over and saw Angie begin to stir. "Do you want to talk in the other room?"

"Sure," Ichabod whispered, standing up and following Steven into the sitting room.

"So, yes, I got the grant. Two other colleges also pledged some money, and two others are still deciding. As it is, we can start really working next week, as long as we can get the contractors to start then. You'll be home soon, though..."

Ichabod swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit nervous again. "That's... great," he managed to get out.

Steven didn't pick up on Ichabod's discomfort, so he continued talking. "We're doing the best we can. I'm just sorry it's taking so long. We have the calculations down, though, and the design drawn up at least. Pat will be working with me on it, and we've called in another colleague who is also a specialist on Quantum physics. He's going to fly in from Germany to work with us as well."

"I.. appreciate all of that," Ichabod replied, "It's very kind of you."

"Well, it's a scientific breakthrough if it works. A huge one at that. It would be in the history books. Hell, if it works, technically we could re-write the history books! Though I'm not sure how Angie would feel about that," Steven joked.

Ichabod smiled at him, "I think she might have an issue with it, but I understand what you're saying."

"Anyway, I'll keep you updated on it."

"Thank you..." Ichabod said, before stifling a yawn. "I'm sorry," he added.

"Stop saying that. Go upstairs if you're tired. I'm going to stay down here with Ang for awhile."

Ichabod nodded, "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yep. Goodnight."

Despite being extremely tired that night, Ichabod still found it impossible to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

_Part 20_

Due to the lack of sleep, Ichabod was very tired the next morning. So he ended up wandering around Krystal and Ray's apartment in a daze. He was walking towards the bathroom, thoughts still fixed on his conversation with Steven the previous night, when he heard a sound.

It sounded like someone was screaming. A woman was screaming. The sound was coming from the room that Ray's brother and his girlfriend stayed in.

Despite being away from work for so long, Ichabod's instincts as a constable kicked in and he immediately opened the door, intending to break up whatever type of fight was going on.

"What's going on-" he started, but stopped when he saw what was actually taking place. Ray's brother Lex was standing behind his girlfriend Mimi, feverishly pushing in and out of her, slapping her and calling her names as he did so. Hearing the door open, they both stopped and turned as best they could. Mimi screamed when she saw Ichabod there, causing Ichabod to scream in reaction.

"Jesus christ!" Mimi yelled, pulling a sheet around herself, "What the hell is your problem?"

Lex, for his part, just stood there shocked. He used his hands to cover himself.

"I'm sorry!", Ichabod replied, "I thought someone was getting hurt... I'm sorry! I'll go now," he said, quickly walking out the door and closing it behind him. He took a deep breath, and took back off towards the kitchen, where Ray and Krystal were sitting.

"Are you okay?" Krystal asked, noting that Ichabod was blushing and appeared somewhat shaky.

"I saw them," he said, nervously, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Didn't mean to what?" Ray asked, "Here, come sit down. What did you see?"

Ichabod nodded, and took a seat next to Ray, "I-I walked in on them. Your brother and Mimi. I didn't mean to-"

He was interrupted as Lex and Mimi, now dressed, came stomping through the kitchen towards the front door. Lex kept his eyes on the floor, while Mimi glared at Ichabod as she walked by.

"Freak," she muttered, slamming the door behind her as they left.

Krystal and Ray watched the whole situation and figured out quickly what Ichabod meant.

"So you walked in on one of their little sex sessions?" Ray asked, smirking.

Ichabod nodded, "Yes. I'm sorry."

"They'll get over it," Ray answered, "Glad you didn't go blind seeing all that."

"I thought I heard a woman screaming so I opened the door, but they were being... intimate.. instead," Ichabod continued to explain.

"Yeah, they should keep it down. I'll talk to them about it later on. Should keep it to themselves, ya know?" Krystal said, trying not to laugh at the whole situation.

"I don't," Ichabod replied, softly.

"Don't want?"

"Don't know much about it," Ichabod answered, blushing again. He cast his gaze down at his hands.

"Oh. OH. You mean sex?" Krystal asked, a bit bewildered. God help her if she had to have this conversation with someone older than herself.

"No."

"I see..." Krystal said, "I, um... well... is there something you want to know?" she asked, unsure of where this was going.

Ichabod shrugged, "I didn't know you could do it in that position. From... behind..."

"There's a lot of positions you can do it in. Doing missionary gets kind of boring sometimes," Ray replied, picking his finger nails. He didn't feel comfortable looking Ichabod in the eyes during this talk.

"Missionary...?"

"When the guy is on top of the girl. You're seriously a virgin?" Krystal asked, before she could stop herself. "Er, sorry. That just kind of came out. You don't have to answer."

"Is it not obvious?" Ichabod whispered, still not looking at either of the other people.

"Well... I've never really thought about it, to be honest," Krystal said, "Whatever you do is your business."

There was an awkward silence before Ichabod spoke again, "How old were you?"

The question seemed to be directed at both Ray and Krystal.

"When I first had sex?" Krystal asked, "15."

"16," Ray answered.

"With other people?"

Ray and Krystal looked at each other before Ray answered, "Yes. We both had other relationships. We've only been together for four years."

Ichabod nodded, "I am twenty nine."

"Alright," Ray replied, "Well, I guess, you'll do it when the time is right. You'll meet the right person and love each other and then you'll make love."

"But you should wear a condom when you do it," Krystal added, feeling as if she had to throw that part in if she wanted to be responsible.

"Yeah. Definitely wrap it up. You know, if you don't want an STD or kids." Ray stated.

Ichabod looked at him, somewhat confused, "I'm sorry?"

"Sexually transmitted disease. Like Herpes or the clap or HIV."

"I don't know what any of those are."

Both Ray and Krystal sighed at the same time. Yes, this was definitely going to be an awkward day.

_Part 21_

When Angela and Steven came by later that evening, Krystal nearly jumped on them.

"We need to talk," she said, leading them further into the kitchen, "in here."

"Okay. Is everything okay?" Angela asked, a bit concerned by the tone of Krystal's voice.

"Yes. Well. It's weird," she quickly looked through the door into the next room, and saw that Ichabod and Ray were still watching a show on UFOs. They would be unable to hear the conversation from where they were. Still, she gathered the group closer to the opposite end of the kitchen anyway, just to be sure.

"Ichabod walked in on Lex and Mimi having sex today," she said.

Angela raised an eyebrow, while Steve dropped the bag of bread he'd brought as part of dinner.

"He what?" Steve asked, picking the bag up, "Wow. What happened?"

"He came to us and asked some questions."

"About Lex and Mimi?" Angela asked.

"About sex. He hasn't done it. He wanted to learn about it. It was awkward. He seemed sort of upset about being a virgin. Ray ended up showing him a bunch of Wikipedia articles about STDs. Like I said, it was awkward."

"I see," Steve said.

"It was like talking to your kid about sex except that the kid was five years older than you."

"Yeah, that sounds weird," Angela replied, "I take it he eventually dropped the subject?"

"Eventually. I'm just telling you because I don't want you to be surprised if he asks you anything."

"Thanks," Angela said, "Are Lex and Mimi okay?"

"Annoyed but alright. They'll probably stay out for a while."

"Right. Okay, thanks. Uhm. I guess we should get started on dinner, then?" Angela asked.

"Yeah. That's fine."

The subject wasn't mentioned again that night, though dinner was a very quiet affair, no one really knowing what to say.

_Part 22_

Ichabod had a feeling that Krystal had mentioned what had happened to Angie and Steven, and it made him feel extremely embarrassed.

His feeling was confirmed when Steve came up to him after Angela had gone to sleep.

"I, uh... well I'll just be honest," Steve started, "Krystal told us about what happened today. And since you live here, with us, and we're sort of... responsible for your well being...I just thought it was fair that if you have any other... questions, you should know that you could ask me."

Ichabod wished he could sink into the floor and disappear, right then and there. As if being a twenty nine year old virgin in general wasn't enough. Most men in his time had at least some experience by his age, if they weren't married with several children by then.

"Thank you," Ichabod eventually replied, "That's... nice of you."

"Right. I, uhm, well you see," Steven began to stumble over his words again, "One of the things we use the internet and TV for. Not just us, I mean, people in general, is to watch porn. Which is a video of people having sex. I, uh, well we have a small collection, so if you want you can go through it... to help understand it... just wait 'til I'm upstairs, k?" Steve finished.

Ichabod merely nodded in reply, still wishing he could disappear. Maybe going back to 1799 wasn't such a bad idea after all.


	8. Chapter 8

_Part 24_

"It blows my mind that you gave him your porn," Angela said, early the next morning. She and Steve were up early, and had left Ichabod sleeping in the bedroom again. "Damn. I mean, you know, this is why we don't have kids!"

Steve rolled his eyes, "C'mon, he's almost thirty. He's not some six year old. I just figured maybe it would help him understand it a bit better."

Angela glared at her husband, "Porn is nothing like real life, you and I both know that."

Steve shrugged, "Well what was I supposed to do?"

Angela sighed, "I dunno. Leave it alone? He's smart. He can figure it out on his own! You don't have to go... corrupting his mind!"

"I don't think he looked at it anyway. Everything was where I left it and he came up to bed just a little bit after me."

"Whatever, just, bad decision."

Steven smirked, "Look at you, all protective."

Angela glared at him again, "Shut up."

Steven just smiled.

_Part 25_

There wasn't time to discuss the issue again that day, and everyone, especially Ichabod, was grateful for that. Instead, everyone... well, Angela and Steven mostly, were focused on preparing the house for visitors.

Angela's brother Enzo was driving up from Washington DC that day, intending to spend the week in Corona.

It seemed to be perfect timing. If Enzo was home, he could stay with Ichabod, as neither Angela nor Steven really thought it would be good to send him back to Krystal and Ray's apartment, at least not for a while. Mimi and Lex had been rather angry about the whole ordeal, and everyone there seemed to just generally feel awkward.

A week off would probably make life easier for everyone.

Enzo showed up around noon, just after Angela had finished preparing the sitting room for him to stay in. He was going to sleep on the futon, where Ichabod had originally slept.

Angie had sort of explained the situation the last time she'd talked to Enzo, just giving him the idea that they had someone staying with them. She also asked Ichabod to try not to mention the whole time travel thing, what with Enzo being a very conservative skeptic. It was easier said than done, but Ichabod said he'd at least try to act normal.

Enzo ended up looking like a taller, male version of Angie. He had glasses, much like her, a similar shaped face as well. He was around the same age as Ichabod, thirty, but was much bigger than the small constable, and much more muscular and confident. He had a slight beard and wore a Yankees cap.

Angie ran up and gave him a kiss as soon as Enzo stepped out of the car.

"Big brother!", she said, happily, giving him a hug, "It's been so long."

He smiled and hugged her back, "I know, I know. I've missed you too."

"How was your drive?" she asked, as she walked him inside.

"Eh, not too much traffic. Made it in about five hours. Not so bad."

They walked into the living room to find Steven and Ichabod standing there.

"Hey Steve!", Enzo greeted, coming over to shake Steve's hand.

"Hey man, how's it been?"

"Good, good. And you must be...Ichabod?" Enzo asked, turning his attention to the smaller man.

"Yes," Ichabod answered, softly. He already felt intimidated by this man.

"Oh, okay," Enzo said, reaching out to shake Ichabod's hand, "Angie told me about you."

Ichabod nodded, "Oh."

Enzo looked the constable over, sizing him up. There was a silence before he spoke up again.

"Right," Enzo said, "Anyway, nice to meet you."

"Yes," Ichabod said again.

Enzo turned to Steve and raised an eyebrow, and Steve just rolled his eyes. He hadn't thought that Ichabod or Angie had seen it, but Ichabod had, and it made him cringe inside. He wondered if Steve was angry at him for something, maybe for what had happened the day before. Or maybe he was just annoying Steven unintentionally.

"You'll be staying in here," Angie said aloud, interrupting Ichabod's thoughts. He watched as she led Enzo over to the sitting room, where the futon was pulled out.

"Nice," Enzo said, "You guys did a good job in here." With that, he put his suitcase down, and took a seat.

"Thanks, took forever, but we finally got it done," Angela replied.

"Yep," Enzo said. He looked very tired. Angie was able to read her brother quickly, so she spoke up.

"You want to rest for a bit?" she asked, "Then when you're ready I was going to take us out to dinner. Wherever you want to go."

"Hmmm. Maybe Saints n Sinners?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you want."

"Thanks, sis."

Angela smiled, and went to leave, when Enzo called her back.

"That guy, Ichabod? That's his name, right?" Enzo asked.

"Yes, he's been staying with us."

"Yeah, you told me. Does he have something wrong with him? He seems kinda... weird."

"He has some anxiety issues. He was probably just nervous meeting you, is all. That's why we were hoping you'd spend some time with him during the day while we were at work..." Angela said.

"Yeah, yeah. That's fine. I was just curious."

"He's a good person."

"Good. Okay, then."

"Okay. See you soon."

_Part 26_

Around seven that night, the four of them got into Enzo's Jeep and headed out to dinner.

Unlike Angela and Steven, Enzo was a more aggressive driver, swerving in and out of different lanes as he tried to find the fastest route to the restaurant. The constant movement made Ichabod start to feel sick, so he had to close his eyes to avoid throwing up. Neither Steven nor Angela noticed this, though. They were too busy talking and laughing with Enzo.

After what felt like the longest drive ever, but was really only about fifteen minutes, Enzo parked the car (badly) and everyone got out. Ichabod took his time, as he still felt rather queasy, and was the last to follow them inside.

They'd gotten a decent, comfortable table, and as soon as the waitress came, Enzo ordered a pitcher of beer and a round of vodka shots for everyone.

"Salut," he said, raising his shot glass, "To family and friends."

Steve and Angela picked theirs up as well, and Ichabod followed suit.

He'd never had alcohol like that before, but was willing to try it.

Angie, Steve and Enzo downed theirs quickly, and Ichabod mimicked them, drinking the entire shot at once. The alcohol surprised him, burning his throat. He almost spit it back up, but managed to force it down.

"You okay there, champ?" Enzo asked, looking at Ichabod.

"Y-yes," Ichabod rasped out.

Enzo grinned, "Here," he said, pouring a beer, "Have this. Maybe you'll like it more."

Ichabod accepted the drink, and began to sip it slowly. He grimaced. It was very bitter.

"Ya don't like it?" Enzo asked.

"It's okay," Ichabod replied, not wanting to disappoint those with him. He continued to force himself to choke it down, if only to fit in.

"So Enzo, how's teaching going?" Steve asked, starting a new conversation.

"Oh, it's good. The kids are great. I think I'm getting tenured this year, too."

"Good for you, bro," Steve said, taking a sip of his own beer, "You still makin' them run the mile?"

"Yep, once a week as always!", Enzo replied, finishing his drink. He poured himself another. "Gotta make those fat kids work for their grades," he added.

"Gym teachers," Angie said, rolling her eyes jokingly.

"History teachers," Enzo replied, doing the same. Both Enzo and Angela started laughing at it.

The rest of the night the conversation went on, mainly between Steven, Enzo, and Angela. Ichabod sat quietly in the corner of the booth, just listening.

Soon enough the bar was getting crowded, and it made him nervous, so he was trying to focus on other things as well.

After they'd eaten dinner – a couple of bar pies – Enzo ordered another two rounds of shots, intending to finish off the evening properly. After all, it wasn't that often that he and his sister saw each other these days.

Ichabod sighed when the waitress placed another two shots in front of him. He didn't particularly like the vodka, but he didn't want to insult Enzo or Angela either. After the toast, he held his breath and drank both of them, trying to ignore the burning that was now spreading to his stomach.

Not being a heavy drinker in general, the three shots and beer was enough to put Ichabod over the edge, giving him a really good buzz, even after having eaten.

The trio laughed some more, not even noticing that Ichabod was sitting there, staring at the empty shot glasses for at least fifteen minutes. He felt really zoned out, tired, but calm, and all he felt like doing was staring, so that's what he did.

Enzo finally noticed something was off when they got up to leave, and Ichabod seemed to have a hard time standing up.

"Hey, I think your friend is drunk," he said to Steven.

Steven turned to look at Ichabod, who was currently leaning on the table, trying to maintain his balance.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Huh?" Ichabod replied, trying to focus on Steve's face, "Er, yeahhh," Ichabod slurred, "I'm fine..."

"Good," Steven said, turning back around.

Ichabod managed to make it back to the car, stumbling over his own feet as he walked. It would've helped him a lot if one of the others had walked with him, but they were all too caught up in talking and joking to even pay him any attention.

Once again, he rode back with his eyes closed, yet still feeling dizzy. Soon as he got inside the house, he crawled up the stairs, got into bed, still with his clothes on, and fell asleep.

_Part 27_

When Ichabod woke up the next morning, he noticed that neither Angie nor Steven were in the bed next to his. In fact, the bed looked like it hadn't been slept in at all.

Groaning as he stood up – his stomach still felt sick from the night before – he stretched then went downstairs to see where everyone was.

He found the answer fairly quickly – Enzo, Angie, and Steve were sprawled out in the living room, cards scattered everywhere, shot glasses and an empty bottle of Bacardi lining the table. The TV was on, too, showing the intro to some video game. It looked like they'd all had a good time last night and were sleeping it off, now.

Ichabod couldn't help but feel somewhat left out. Yes, he'd gone to sleep on his own, but he would've liked to participate in whatever fun the other three had had.

He sighed, and pushed the feeling down, reminding himself that it wasn't right to be that way. Enzo had traveled a good distance and he and Angie rarely saw each other. They should get to enjoy their time.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder why it is that Angie and Steve had never played games like that with him, or had drinks with him either.

'Probably because they knew I'd be falling over myself drunk,' he thought to himself.

Not wanting to wake anyone up, Ichabod stalked back up to the bedroom, and spent the rest of the morning watching the television in bed.

_Part 28_

Sometime around noon, Angie woke up, and made a pot of coffee. Steve and Enzo woke up shortly afterward.

None were feeling particularly hung over, but none really felt their best, either.

Hearing movement and voices downstairs, Ichabod turned off the TV, and threw on a new set of clothes – the ones he was wearing were wrinkled and smelled like BO and beer – and made his way back down again.

Angie, Steve, and Enzo were sitting around the breakfast table, each drinking coffee.

"Oh, hey," Angie said, when Ichabod came into the kitchen, "Good morning." she pointed at the coffee pot, and handed him a mug. Ichabod poured himself some coffee and sat down in between Enzo and Steve.

Everyone was drinking their coffee quietly, when Enzo suddenly flicked a folded up napkin at his sister.

"Touchdown!" he yelled, as the triangle-shaped napkin hit her in the face.

"You're a mo," she said, throwing it back at him.

Enzo laughed, then changed the subject. "last night was frickin' hilarious, Ang."

"Yeeaah," Angie agreed.

Steve smirked at both of them, and then they all burst out laughing for no particular reason.

"I can't believe I beat you six times at Mario Party," Angie said, still laughing, "For an Italian you sure suck at that game."

"Hey, just 'cause Mario's Italian doesn't mean all Italians are good at it!" Enzo defended himself. Everyone started laughing again.

Ichabod was confused. "Who is Mario?"

"It's a video game," Steve said, trying to calm down, "We played it last night after what, the second bottle of Bacardi? God, Enz, you're a bad influence."

Enzo grinned, "But I'm AWESOME nonetheless!"

"Yeah, sure," Angie said, finishing her coffee, "Whatever you say."

_Part 29_

The rest of the day past uneventfully. Still tired from the previous night, everyone sort of laid low. Towards dinner time, Steve put the grill on, and started grilling some burgers. Meanwhile, Enzo, Ichabod and Angela sat out in the backyard on some lounge chairs.

Enzo had a beer in one hand, and was fumbling with a cigar in the other. He finally got it lit after two attempts, and sat back, enjoying his smoke. Angie and Ichabod also had beer, though Ichabod was reluctant to drink his, knowing how easily he became buzzed.

"Ah, now this is the life," Enzo said, taking a pull and checking out Angie and Steve's back yard, "I miss this. In DC I'm cramped in that apartment, no land like this."

He turned to Ichabod, "Hey, champ," he started.

Ichabod cringed. He really hated that nickname.

"Yes?" he answered.

"You want a pull?" Enzo questioned, holding out the cigar to him.

"Okay...", Ichabod replied, taking it. He put the cigar to his lips, inhaled, and began coughing immediately.

"Oh stop it," Angie said, playfully smacking her brother, "Don't give him that stuff. Look what you made him do." She got up and gently began rubbing Ichabod's back, trying to calm him down. It took a few seconds before he was able to breath again.

"Jeez, sorry," Enzo shot back, taking the cigar back from Ichabod "I just figured maybe he'd want to try it."

"Go inside and get some water," Angela instructed the constable, who was once again looking rather green. The smoke had made him feel a hundred times worse than the alcohol had. Quietly, he did as he was told, coming out a few minutes later only to find that everyone had already started eating and joking once again.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: I saw a few people added this story to their 'watch' list, so I sincerely apologize for having updated all of the chapters last weekend. I was trying to change something on one chapter and had difficulty and ended up having to re-upload them. From hereon out, any changes to past chapters will just be grammatical or formatting, so you can ignore any emails about those. Thank you so much for reading, and also for the review I got as well. _

_Part 30_

Ichabod was dreading having to spend the day with Enzo, so again he had trouble sleeping on Sunday night. He lay awake in bed until the early morning hours, trying to turn his mind off but being completely unable to do so.

He felt like he'd only been asleep for a few minutes when Angie's alarm went off. The alarm signaled when she would get out of bed and prepare for the day. Ichabod usually got up with her, leaving Steven to sleep in a bit later.

Tired as he was, Ichabod really didn't want to be alone that morning, not before he'd have to spend the day with Enzo, so he ended up following Angie to an extent as she did her morning routine. After she'd gotten dressed, for instance, he'd waited outside the door and went downstairs right behind her to get coffee.

Angie noticed the clingyness. "Are you okay?" she asked, pouring two cups of coffee.

"I don't want to stay with Enzo," Ichabod spat out, before he could even think about what he was saying. It'd been playing through his mind all night. The guy just intimidated him. Not to mention, he felt a bit jealous... Enzo was far more confident than he was, and had a very easy time getting along with most people, whereas Ichabod barely had any friends at all.

"Why?" Angie asked, putting some notebooks in her bag.

"He.. I.. I don't know," Ichabod said, "I'm sorry. I just.. don't."

Angie stopped what she was doing and looked up at Ichabod, "That's not particularly fair to Enzo," she said, "He's a guest here. And he's my brother. We were very nice to you when you came to stay with us, it's only right to be nice to him. Not to mention, we can't exactly leave you alone."

Ichabod bit his lower lip, feeling at once a mix of hurt and frustration.

"I'm sorry," Angie started, realizing what she had said, "I didn't mean it to sound that way. I just mean... well really, it's better if someone is here with you, in case you need anything. Krystal and Ray need some time, after what happened... can you at least try to make this work, just for the next week?"

Ichabod frowned, but agreed. Angie was right, he told himself, she and Steven had been nice to him, and he was sure that he'd annoyed them several times. The least he could do was try to get along with Enzo for a few days.

_Part 31_

Enzo woke up a few hours later, after Steve had gone to work. After he'd showered, shaved and got dressed, he went to the living room to find Ichabod watching something educational.

"Hey," he said, taking a seat next to Ichabod, "How goes it?"

"Hi," he replied, "I'm well. How are you?"

"Good. Would be better if I could watch ESPN though."

Ichabod sighed, rolled his eyes and handed Enzo the remote. For awhile he simply stared at the TV, not really interested in the baseball it was showing.

"What do you want to do today?" Ichabod asked, once the commercials came on.

Enzo shrugged, "Was thinking we could go down to Manhattan, check out some of the stores there."

Ichabod thought for a minute. Angie hadn't taken him into that part of the city, yet, and he was curious to see how it had changed since his time.

"Alright," he agreed, "That sounds like a plan."

_Part 32_

Manhattan had been crowded in 1799, but Ichabod hadn't expected it to be like this.

People from all over the world walked the streets, leaving no room for personal space. Worse, Enzo was a fast walker, so Ichabod had to struggle to keep up with him as he weaved around people. Really, Enzo walked just like he drove.

It seemed like the event was doomed from the start. About three blocks in, Ichabod became separated from Enzo, as a large group of people had cut in front of him. He'd walked past them only to find that he could not see Enzo anywhere.

As he tried to study the faces surrounding him, his thoughts were interrupted by a car honking at him. Ichabod nearly jumped out of his skin, only then realizing he was actually standing in the middle of a crosswalk.

Hurriedly, he crossed to the other side of the street.

Still, he couldn't find Enzo.

It only took a few moments for Ichabod to feel his heart begin to race. It was too much – the loud noises from traffic and people talking, the lights shining on the signs, the thousands of others surrounding him, yelling, pushing past him as if he were nothing but garbage.

A couple more steps, and the world began to spin. He felt so dizzy, he was unsure if he could continue to stand.

Slowly, he made his way over towards the first building he saw, desperately clinging on to the wall for support. He was starting to hyperventilate, now, too.

'Focus!', he tried to tell himself, 'Concentrate. Stop panicking. Enzo is here somewhere, you just need to find him, and you need a clear mind to do that!'

But Ichabod's irrational side won out against his logical one. Tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes, and he felt a tightness in his chest. Any second now, he felt sure that he'd collapse...

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Where the hell did you go?" an angry voice asked.

Ichabod glanced up to see Enzo standing next to him, looking rather annoyed.

"I-" Ichabod stopped, trying to catch his breath. He could feel the panic leaving him, though he still felt physically weak. "I couldn't find you..."

Enzo looked the smaller man over, "What's your problem? Are you having one of those panic attacks? Do I need to take you to a hospital?"

"N-no," Ichabod took a deep breath, "No, I'm fine, I'm-I'm sorry." He wiped away one of the tears falling down his cheek with his hand, "Really. I'm sorry."

Enzo's expression turned to one of concern, "It's fine. Do you need medication or something?"

"I took it last night."

"Oh, okay. Let me know when you're ready to continue."

Ichabod shook his head, "I'm ready."

"Alright."

_Part 33_

Enzo had made it a point to stay close to Ichabod, lest he face his sister's wrath later that evening. They'd gone to a few stores when they decided to stop for lunch. Ichabod hadn't meant it, but he'd knocked into a rather large, tough looking man, causing the man to spill all of his food onto the floor.

The entire restaurant stopped and stared as the man seemed just about to give the small constable the beating of a lifetime, when Enzo stepped in. He stood in front of Ichabod, who was trembling, ready to defend him if necessary. Thankfully, the prospect of having to fight someone younger, physically fit, and almost the same height as him turned the guy off, and he'd ended up wandering away grumbling something about 'that goddamn idiot'.

If that wasn't bad enough, they'd soon found themselves lost somewhere near Chinatown.

Enzo was working on figuring out which trains to take back to Queens, but Ichabod was not quite so calm. He was tired and nervous. He'd always hated being lost. Even with Enzo near him, there was still the nagging, paranoid thought that perhaps they'd never find their way back.

At least, this time, he was able to keep his breathing under control, and he wasn't feeling dizzy. Asking Enzo where they were and what they were doing every 5 minutes didn't seem to be helping, though.

On the fourth "What are we going to do?" Enzo finally had enough.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" he screamed, shoving Ichabod against a wall, "I'm TRYING to figure it out and I don't need you buzzing around me like a paranoid bumblebee!"

Ichabod opened his mouth, but no words came out. Enzo glared at him, then let go of him, leaving the smaller man leaning up against the wall silently.

"I-I-I'm sorry-" Ichabod started, but Enzo cut him off.

"What don't you understand about SHUT UP? Jesus Christ..." he turned away, walking towards a sign that showed a list of the trains that were running. "I THINK we should take the N train, then from Grand Central we can catch the 6."

Ichabod nodded, and quietly followed Enzo down into the subway station. The train ride back was quiet, save for some teenagers blasting rap music. Enzo refused to make eye contact with Ichabod, waiting until they got off to speak.

"I'm sorry for going off on you. I was just frustrated because I thought the day would go smoother," he said, through gritted teeth. He was only apologizing because he knew that Angie would be upset if she found out he hadn't.

Ichabod just nodded again, but said nothing, feeling both angry and nervous that Enzo would start yelling at him again.

Soon as they got back to Angie's house, he went upstairs, feeling safer in the bedroom than on the first floor with Enzo.

_Part 34_

Angie and Steven came home to find Enzo watching the television, with Ichabod nowhere in sight.

"Did he come down today at all?" Angie asked, worried that perhaps Ichabod had stayed upstairs to avoid dealing with her brother.

"We went to Manhattan today, and there were a few issues," Enzo explained, looking his sister straight in the eyes.

"What kind of issues?"

Enzo sighed, "Look, whatever that guys problem is, it's worse than I thought it would be. We got lost in Chinatown and he was breathing down my neck the whole time asking a million questions."

"Ugh," Angela sighed, "I'm sorry he was annoying. I don't think he can help it."

"Then before that, dude had a massive panic attack right on 42nd street. Almost got hit by a car. Then he almost got the crap kicked out of him at Sbarro's. I don't know about you but I'm sorry I don't have it in me to deal with that. I work with children at school, but they pay me for that. This.. I have no patience for."

"No, no. I understand. It's okay. We'll.. we'll make other arrangements. I'll call in sick tomorrow, and stay here, so you can have some time to enjoy your vacation. Again, I really don't think he means to be that way."

"You're a saint for dealing with him, Ang."

Angie smiled, "Yeah, well, I get annoyed too, I guess I'm just better at coping with it."

Enzo smiled back, "And that's what makes you a saint!"

"Right. I'm going to start on dinner. Do me a favor and stay out of the kitchen?"

"Yes ma'am!"

Both walked in the opposite directions, not knowing that Ichabod was standing at the top of the steps, having heard their entire conversation.

_Part 35_

"Hey, Ichabod, dinner's ready!" Steven called out.

There was no reply.

Sighing, Steven made his way up the stairs and knocked on the bedroom door, before opening it.

"Ichabod?" he asked, looking around. He found the constable lying on his bed, facing the wall. He'd wrapped the blankets around himself, and was curled up on his side.

"I'm not hungry, thanks," he whispered, hearing Steven walk into the room.

"Okay. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Well we'll be eating outside if you decide to join us."

Ichabod said nothing, just continued looking at the wall. After everything he'd heard, Ichabod felt like he was a horrible burden to the whole family he was staying with. It wasn't right to be down there, eating their food, pretending that he was one of them. Besides, he didn't feel well anyway. The past few days he'd felt a burning pain in his stomach, as if he'd swallowed fire. Better just to stay upstairs and rest.

_Part 36_

"He's not coming down?" Angie asked, as Steven walked out onto the patio.

"Says he's not hungry. He's all huddled up on the bed up there."

Angie shrugged, "Okay then."

Enzo said nothing, keeping his eyes focused on his food. He was sure that their little altercation had something to do with Ichabod's behavior, though.

After the group finished eating, they went inside. Angela made a quick trip upstairs to check on Ichabod, only to find that he was already asleep, even though it was only seven o'clock. 'Must've had a long day in the city', she thought to herself. After that she didn't consider it much.

_Part 37_

Sometime near two am, Angie awoke to the sound of retching. She glanced over and saw that Steve was still sleeping. She remembered that Enzo had the downstairs bathroom to use... so that left Ichabod.

Standing up, she put on her robe and made her way to the second floor bathroom. The door was unlocked, and she found Ichabod kneeling on the floor, vomiting into the toilet.

Quickly, she walked towards him. She rested a hand on his back, and rubbed him gently, using her other hand to hold back his hair as he continued to get sick.

Eventually he began to dry heave, and then those stopped too. He leaned back, shaking, sweating, and looking thoroughly exhausted.

"What happened?" Angie asked, flushing the toilet. She noticed a few specks of red... that wasn't good.

She stood up and got Ichabod a glass of water, which he gratefully took.

"I..I just woke up and my stomach hurt... I felt ill.. I'm sorry," he said, eyes focused on the floor. He seemed truly embarrassed.

"Don't be sorry," Angie replied. She sat down next to him on the floor and pulled him into her arms, letting him lean back on her. She wrapped an arm around his chest, holding him back, and with the other hand reached up and felt his forehead, checking for a fever. Ichabod's first instinct was to fight her off, but he was too weak to do so. And... it sort of felt good to have someone holding him.

"You're not warm...maybe you ate something funny?

He groaned as another wave of burning pain hit him. Tears began to fall from his eyes.

"Do you feel sick again?" Angie asked, about to let him up if need be.

He nodded weakly, "No...just hurts..."

Angie frowned, "I'm sorry. Let's get you back to bed then..."

She helped him stand up, then noticed that her husband was standing in the doorway.

"What's wrong?" he asked, seeing how pale Ichabod was.

"Ichabod was sick," Angie replied, "I'm taking him back to bed."

"Let me help," Steve said. He wrapped an arm around Ichabod's waist and led him to the bedroom, helping him lay back down.

The constable groaned again, still crying silently.

Angie felt terrible that the man hurt so badly, and she took a seat beside him.

"He's sweating," she said to Steve, feeling Ichabod's forehead again, "Can you get a cold towel?"

Steve nodded, and went to go get one. While he was gone, Angie reached down, and pulled Ichabod's pajama top up, revealing his bare skin.

Gently, she began to rub his stomach, trying to comfort him. She made small circles at first, then reached to his sides.

He whimpered, enjoying the feeling. "Is this helping?" she finally asked after a moment.

"Mhmm," he replied, "Feels so good.."

Angie noticed that even though he was now calmer, he was beginning to sweat harder. Thankfully Steven appeared that moment with a cool, wet towel in hand. He gave it to Angie, who folded it, pushed Ichabod's hair away from his face, and placed it on his forehead.

"Okay honey," she said, continuing to rub Ichabod's stomach, "We'll see if this helps. If not we'll go get you some medicine."

Softly, she moved her hand, up and down, eventually settling it in the middle of his chest.

She noticed Ichabod's breathing was slowing down, signaling that he was falling asleep.

"Good boy," she whispered, standing up to go back to bed.

The rest of the night was rather long, as Ichabod woke up every few hours feeling sick again. By the time morning came, Steve was convinced that they should take the younger man to the doctor lest he get extremely dehydrated. It was becoming harder and harder for the poor man to hold anything, even water or gatorade down.

Both Steve and Angela called out of work, and around 8am, they helped Ichabod to the car. Enzo was still sleeping – the man slept like the dead – so they left him home.

Angie sat with him in the backseat, arm wrapped around Ichabod's shoulders. They'd brought a blanket along and had laid that on his legs. He was starting to get chills.

It only took a few moments to arrive at the local clinic. They allowed patients to pay in cash if they didn't have insurance, so that seemed like the best bet.

Taking one look at Ichabod, the nurse - an older, kindly looking woman with gray hair - helped him into a room immediately. Angie and Steven followed.

Ichabod seemed very frightened of his new surroundings. He didn't really understand why. Manhattan had been far scarier, yet, he was still afraid. Also, he didn't know what to expect. He was very thankful that Angie was holding his hand the whole time, though, he could feel himself trembling.

"Shh, its okay," Angie whispered, as the nurse walked out of the room for a moment, "This isn't a big deal. All that will happen is she is going to take your vital signs... your heart rate, blood pressure, she will check your temperature and probably get your height and weight. Then the doctor is going to come in and talk to you about how you feel. He will give you some medication to make you feel better. We'll be here with you the whole time though."

Steve nodded at her statement, agreeing with her.

"O-okay," Ichabod said, placing his hand on his stomach. He hadn't thrown up in the past hour but his stomach muscles still hurt a lot, and the burning feeling was still there.

Soon enough the nurse returned, carrying a blank chart with her.

Okay, sir," she addressed Ichabod, "First let me get your pulse." she took hold of his wrist and watched the clock. "Pulse is a bit fast," she noted. A terrified look came over Ichabod's face. "Is-is that bad?"

The nurse smiled at him, "It's probably just because you've been throwing up a lot. It's not a big worry," she replied. Ichabod still looked nervous, but did not answer.

"Blood pressure is normal," the nurse said, after she'd taken that. "Stick this under your tongue," she instructed, handing Ichabod a thermometer. He eyed it warily, but did as he was told.. The thermometer beeped a minute later.

"98.6.. normal temperature. Okay, Mr. Crane, let's just get your height and weight and then the doctor will be right in. "

She led him over to a scale, and he stepped on. She moved the balance around and marked everything down.

Ichabod groaned, and rubbed his stomach again.

The nurse frowned, "Go sit down, the doctor will be in here in a few moments."

Ichabod walked back over to the exam table, and sat back down. He reached out for Angie's hand again, looking for comfort.

She grasped his hand back, holding it tightly.

The door then opened, and the doctor, a rather tall black man with glasses walked in.

"Hi Mr. Crane," he said, taking a seat on a stool, "I'm Doctor Carlson. And what brings you here today?"

Ichabod swallowed nervously, "I've been sick... throwing up..."

Dr. Carlson looked to Angie and David, his expression basically asking if they had further information.

Angie forced a smile at the doctor, and grasped Ichabod's hand a bit harder. "Ichabod has a Panic Disorder, so he is probably just a bit nervous," she said. Ichabod blushed, but said nothing. "He was very sick last night, throwing up every few hours. We tried to get him to take water and gatorade but he can't keep it down. He was complaining that his stomach was burning, too."

"Hmm," the doctor said, reviewing Ichabod's chart, "How are you feeling now?" he asked the patient.

"My stomach hurts quite a bit," Ichabod answered honestly, "I don't feel nauseated any more, but I haven't eaten recently either."

The doctor nodded, "Are you on any medication?"

"Pax..Paxil," Ichabod answered.

"And did this start after you ate anything that you think may have caused food poisoning?"

"I don't know."

"I see," the doctor replied, "Any blood in the vomit?"

Ichabod's face paled, "Uhm. Yes... there were red spots..."

"A lot of blood, or just a little bit?"

"Not that much."

"Alright. Since you don't have a fever, I don't think it's the flu, or a stomach virus. It's a bit early in the year for those anyway. However, I'm worried you may have an ulcer. Have you been under a lot of stress lately?"

Ichabod closed his eyes, trying to think of the 'right' answer, as not to upset Angela or Steven.

"I.. um.. no.. not much. Sometimes."

Angela looked Ichabod in the eyes, "If you're feeling stressed you can be honest about it."

"Okay. Yes... very much so recently."

"The best way to check for internal bleeding would be for me to perform an endoscopy. However, it may be best to just try some mild antacid medication, see if that helps at all. If you continue to feel ill within the next few days, we can reevaluate it. I'd also suggest that you talk to your psychiatrist about changing medications, or upping the dosage of what you're on. Obviously it's not working for you if you're feeling this way all the time."

Ichabod nodded, and the doctor wrote out a prescription. The doctor then turned to Angela and handed it to her.

"Pick that up for him this morning. If he starts to feel better and can keep down water then he can try to eat some bland food. Rice, toast, bananas. Nothing acidic. Keep with that for a day or two. Then he can start switching back."

Ichabod watched as they discussed his treatment, feeling rather insulted. He hated being treated like a child. He might not have been the strongest person mentally and physically, but the doctor could at least address him when he was the subject of conversation.

Nonetheless, Ichabod was very tired. It wasn't worth to fight right now. When the doctor turned back to him, and instructed him to call if there were any other problems, he simply forced a smile, nodded, and got out of the room as soon as possible.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, lots of stuff going on in real life._

_Part 38_

Steven dropped off Angela and Ichabod at home, and then went back out to the pharmacy to get the prescription filled.

Ichabod seemed to be doing better, at least, up until Angela unlocked the door. They walked in to find Enzo now awake, playing video games in the living room.

As soon as Enzo said hi, Ichabod doubled over in pain, wrapping his arms around his stomach and breathing heavily.

"Oh, Christ," Angela muttered, as she got closer to the constable. She put her hands on his shoulders to help support him, "What's wrong?"

"Hurts..." Ichabod whispered. He was having a hard time standing, and Angela could feel this, so she quickly led him over to the nearest chair and helped him sit.

"Worse than before?" she asked, kneeling down in front of him.

"A little..." he cringed, and began curling up on the chair as best he could.

Angela sighed, "I'm sorry. Steven will be back in a little bit. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Before Ichabod could answer, Enzo appeared in the room. "What's wrong with him?" he asked, callously. He was starting to get tired of Ichabod's crap.

Ichabod glanced up at him, his face turning extremely pale. Without any real warning, he coughed, then threw up all over Enzo's jeans and shoes. Ichabod groaned when he was done, then collapsed back on the chair, eyes closed.

"What the hell?" Enzo yelled, "Angie, what the hell is his problem?"

Angela glared at her brother, "He's sick! He didn't mean to do that. Stop screaming and go change your clothes." She was in no mood for any fighting right now.

Enzo scowled, but walked off to change. As he left, Angela couldn't help but wonder if her brother's presence had anything to do with Ichabod's predicament.

Ichabod's eyes fluttered open a second later, snapping Angela out of her thoughts. He groaned again.

Angela frowned, "I know it hurts, darlin'. I'm so sorry." She reached up, and began stroking Ichabod's hair, trying to at least give him a modicum of comfort.

"Don't..." he said, pulling away, "I'm already... enough.. of a burden on you...", he swallowed, painfully, trying to ignore the burning feeling from where stomach acid and blood had touched his throat.

Angela was surprised, "What do you mean? You're not a burden on us."

"I heard you," Ichabod said, wrapping his arms around himself again, as if defending himself, "I heard you talking. It's okay. I'm sorry for it, for coming here. If I had a choice I would've just stayed in Sleepy Hollow and let the Horseman get me."

"You heard me talking to Steven," Angela stated, "Oh, darlin', no. I might get a little annoyed sometimes, but it's only because there's so much going on. I'm always busy and tired, ya know? You've done nothing wrong."

Ichabod considered her words for a moment, before nodding. Angela stood up and rested a hand on the sick man's back. He leaned in and rested his head on her stomach. "You're a good boy," she murmured, running her hands though his black hair once again.

Steven came home a few minutes later, holding the medication in a bag. Angela was very happy to see him.

"Thank god you're back," she said, taking the medicine. Both of them looked down at Ichabod, who was still very pale and sick looking.

Angela opened up the medication, which was liquid, and poured it out into the small measuring cup that came with it.

Once again she kneeled next to Ichabod, and offered it to him.

"Take this," she instructed, watching as he downed it.

"The package insert says it will take a few minutes to take effect. Do you want to go lie down?"

Ichabod nodded weakly, and allowed Steven and Angela to help him stand and get up the stairs. Once in the bedroom, they helped him lay down.

Soon as he was horizontal, Ichabod curled up again, this time, shaking.

"I know, I know, it hurts..." Angela cooed, gently running her thumb along his cheekbone, "It'll feel better soon."

Angela stayed upstairs for most of the rest of the afternoon, just sitting with Ichabod, trying to comfort him as best she could. He seemed to be doing better, the medication was working, but the past few days of stress had taken a toll on him and he still seemed very weak. He had bags under his beautiful eyes and looked very gaunt.

Angela wondered to herself how she missed all of this. She felt extremely guilty for it. In the end, she supposed, she had just been so happy to see her brother that she'd been ignoring the person she was supposed to take care of.

Sometime around three o'clock, Angela went downstairs to get some water and food. She reasoned that perhaps part of the reason Ichabod was so weak was because he hadn't eaten in a long time, and had thrown up everything that was in his system.

She came down the staircase just in time to see Enzo carrying his suitcase out to the car.

"You're leaving?" she asked, a bit surprised.

"Yeah. Sorry Ang. I really don't want to spend my week off dealing with this. Maybe next year, yeah? If _he's_ not with you," Enzo replied, sneering when he mentioned Ichabod.

Angela really wanted to reply something nasty, like how whatever he'd done to the poor constable outweighed anything that Ichabod could've done to annoy him, but she figured it wasn't worth it. She loved her brother, and wanted to see him, but not at the expense of her innocent houseguest.

"Yeah. Okay. I understand," she answered. "Give me a call when you get back to DC, alright? Just so I know you made it back alright."

"Sure thing. I love ya, Angie. You really are a saint."

Angela nodded and half smiled, "Thanks."

Enzo gave his sister a quick hug, before walking out and heading off.

_Part 39_

By this point, Angela was fed up enough with everything to just say 'screw it'. It was the last week of school before summer break any way, and she had tenure. Plus, her and Steve has some money saved, so she ended up calling out the rest of the week to stay home with Ichabod. She did plan to go in on the actual last day, to say goodbye to her classes, but that was it. She could live without the pay.

Over the next few days, Ichabod's condition varied. Some days he felt much better. On those days, he would go with Angela as she ran errands or see friends. Other days, especially if there was any type of stress involved, he was much worse, and essentially bed ridden.

Thankfully, by the time the end of June rolled around, things were looking up. Some days were still bad, but most were tolerable. All of the medications Ichabod was on seemed to be working, so at least Angela felt comfortable leaving him alone in the house now and then.

_Part 40_

In the beginning of July, Steven came home early from work. He ran up to the bedroom, where he knew Angela and Ichabod were. He found them both there, lying on separate beds. Angela was reading a book, while Ichabod was engrossed in yet another showing of Happy Feet. He seemed to like that movie, for some reason, so Angela had bought a Blu-ray copy and kept it on hand for especially hard days.

"Hey guys," Steve said, as he walked into the room.

"You're home early," Angela commented, watching as a smile crept on to Steven's face.

"Yes... well, I have some good news," he started. Hearing this, Ichabod turned his attention from the movie to Steven. "We finished the project this morning. We'll be ready to use it tomorrow!"

"Oh wow!" Angela exclaimed, "That's amazing. That means you'll get to go back, Ichabod! Ah, shit, we have a lot of preparations to make... I thought it'd be a little farther off.. Steve, call the doctor and have him refill your script tonight, so Ichabod can take it with him. And we gotta get you back into your old clothes..." she said, looking over at Ichabod, who had an odd look on his face.

"Aren't you excited?" Steven asked, noticing it, "You'll probably be better off, in your time... since it's your world and all... it'll be less stressful than this one."

Ichabod nodded slowly, "I... um. Yes, I'm happy," he said, quietly, though it didn't seem convincing.

"You'll need to come to the lab with me around seven am, as it will take a few hours to prep the machine."

"Have you tested it yet?" Angela asked, "I mean, you know it won't hurt him or anything, right?"

Steve frowned, "Well, that's just it. We can only really send things or people one way, not bring them back too. All of our calculations indicate that a living organism should survive the trip, though."

No one really knew how to reply to that, so Steven spoke again, "It's really the only shot we've got, guys."

Angela sighed, and Ichabod nodded, and everyone went to prepare for the next morning.

_Part 41_

That evening, the trio had one last dinner together, and sat around talking. Angela and Steven were going to miss their houseguest, and Ichabod was going to miss them. Knowing that there were no means of communication made it even worse; this goodbye was for good.

Prior to going to bed, Angela helped Ichabod set out everything he would need for the next day. His old clothes were laid out, along with his medications – enough to last a couple of months, at least. He'd also asked for a small photograph of Angela and Steven to take with him, as a reminder of their friendship. Something he could keep in his notebook and take with him when he traveled. Steven printed out a few photos, ones of just him and Angie, and one of the three of them together, and put them into the journal for him. No one really got any sleep that night.

_Part 42_

Ichabod, Steven, and Angela arrived at the lab at 6:45, and as Steven had said, preparation took several hours. It was 11:30 before the machine was up and running. It was pretty amazing to look at, everyone had to admit.

The machine was huge, and controlled by computers hooked up in another room. It looked like a doorway made out of titanium, and a pale yellow aura glowed around it. Steven explained that the aura was actually a field of particles bouncing around within a contained area, and that those particles would be brought to a specific speed. For each time period, there was a slightly different level of movement necessary.

When they were at the correct speed, the one that would lead to 1799, the aura would turn a greenish color. It would only be a few seconds before the object within the machine was sent to its destination.

The only problem that Ichabod should theoretically have to face was getting back to upstate New York, as the machine could only move time, not transport anything across distances.

They planned to send Ichabod back at noon, as that would give him an adequate amount of daylight to find a place to stay, or begin his trip back to Sleepy Hollow. As the clock drew closer and closer, Ichabod, Steven, and Angela embraced one last time, saying their final goodbyes.

Ichabod did not seem keen on stepping into the machine, especially considering the loud buzzing sound it was making as the particles were sped up, but he realized that he really had no choice. It was his only shot at getting back to his true world.

Sighing, the pale man stepped into the frame of the machine, and closed his eyes. Steven explained that he may feel a slight bit of pain, but that it should just be a slight discomfort at most, and that the process would be fairly quick. After wishing him luck, Steven went into the other room near the control panel.

"Here's to making history," he said, as he and Pat touched the panels to finish the process.

_Part 43_

From the other room, the scientists could hear the buzzing sound get louder and louder. That was to be expected.

What was not expected, though, was the lights in the room flickering on and off, and then the sound of what seemed like something getting hit by an electrical current. A loud, sickening thud followed.

Quickly, Steven hit the emergency shut off button, though it took a good five minutes for the room to be deemed safe enough to enter.

When they finally managed to get in, everyone had to hold their breath. A light gray smoke filled the entire area, and there, lying prostrate on the ground about fifteen feet from the machine, was Ichabod.

Steven and Pat rushed over, checking to see if the man was breathing. He was, but he seemed to be unconscious. Ichabod's hair was sticking up in all directions, and there was a small trail of blood falling from his mouth.

"Shit, I think the current was too strong… it must've zapped him and the force must've thrown him here," Pat said, pulling out his phone. Steven sat next to Ichabod as the other scientist called 911.

The paramedics arrived soon, and took Ichabod to a nearby hospital. Angie, who had been in the control room during the mishap, went along with them, while Steven and Pat tried to figure out what to do next.

The machine itself looked to be essentially destroyed. The sides of it were scorched, and no matter how hard they tried, they were unable to get it to even turn on. The wiring was fried. All of their months of work were now officially down the drain.

_Part 44_

"He's got a concussion, but besides that, only a few first degree burns," The doctor, a tall, thin, blond woman in her 50s explained, "He should wake up soon."

"So he'll be okay?" Angela asked.

"Yes. He's quite lucky, actually," the doctor replied, "Considering the voltage that hit him, he should really be dead."

"Well, I guess someone up there was on his side," Angela said, smiling. She turned her attention back to Ichabod, who was currently lying on the hospital bed next to her. The doctors had removed his slightly burned clothing (all of them giving the set of old looking clothes a second look) and dressed him in a hospital gown. His hair was still sticking up all over, but they'd cleaned him up otherwise, bandaging the few bad burns he had, and wiping the blood from his face. Currently, he just seemed to be sleeping peacefully, his mouth slightly open as he breathed in and out.

She'd just moved to wipe some drool from his lips when her cell phone went off. It was Steven, calling to explain how the invention was completely destroyed, and how they were probably going to be unable to get funding to try it again.

Angela sighed, feeling somewhat disappointed and somewhat relieved. Only a second later, she realized the true implications.

"I guess that means he'll be with us permanently, then, yeah?"


	11. Chapter 11

_Part 45_

Ichabod was in the hospital for a day and a half, and Angela and Steven used that time to plan out what needed to be done. Seeing as Ichabod would now be a permanent resident within the household, several things had to be considered.

The first thing they tackled was getting Ichabod his own room to sleep in. It was all fine and good for him to stay with them, had his stay been temporary, but the idea of a grown man sleeping next to their bed permanently wasn't fair to anyone involved. Nor was it really healthy for Ichabod to continue doing that. He had to learn to be on his own to an extent.

It seemed a fair compromise to move out Angela's exercise equipment from the room next to their bedroom to the basement, and to let Ichabod sleep in there. It took a few days, as well as the help of a few of Steven and Angie's friends, but they managed to get the place cleaned and painted, and a new bedframe and set of furniture moved in.

Since the room was literally right next door to Angie and Steven's room, they figured Ichabod could easily get to them if there was a problem.

The next two issues that had to be tackled where getting Ichabod set up with some sort of proof of identity, and also, what to do with him when September came and Angela had to go back to work.

The latter problem was actually the easiest to figure out. Ichabod seemed to enjoy learning, and obviously had an interest in forensics. And, since he was slowly getting better physically and mentally, he could probably handle being out during the day.

That in mind, Steven and Angela discussed with Ichabod the possibility of enrolling in classes at the local community college. They were inexpensive, and he could work towards getting a degree in Forensic Science, or Criminal Justice, or really whatever he was interested in. Ichabod seemed excited at the idea, so Angela picked up a brochure of the classes offered, and helped him through the enrollment process.

A form of ID, which was necessary before he could register at the college, was harder to get. For that, Angela had to contact some of the less savory members of her family; those who had connections to various members of underground "organizations." It cost a little over a thousand dollars, but eventually, Angela's family's contacts came through, and Ichabod had a brand new social security card and even a state ID.

Summer came to a close faster than usual, and Ichabod was scheduled to begin his first classes very early in September. He'd chosen to take some basic courses; Algebra 101, English 101, History 101, Biology 101, and an introductory Psychology class. Taking fifteen credits meant that Ichabod was at school four days a week, about six or seven hours per day.

Another part of getting him to be more independent was the method chosen for getting him to class. Instead of Angela or Steven dropping him off and picking him up, they'd found a bus route that picked up a block from their house, and went right to the college, with only a few stops in between. Ichabod had been less keen on the prospect of taking the bus, by himself, to school, so prior to the beginning of the semester, Angela took a ride with him on it, so that he could get a feel for what public transportation was like, and the route that would be followed.

The last thing they did was get Ichabod a cell phone, so he could call them if he missed the bus, or was sick, or had any problems in general. They got him a cheap plan with about two hundred minutes on it, programmed their phone numbers, and hoped for the best.

_Part 46_

The first day of classes was a Wednesday, and Ichabod had Algebra and Psychology lined up for that day. Algebra started at 10am, and Psychology began at two. He could use the time in between to study in the library, or explore the campus.

Angela checked Ichabod over before he left that morning. He looked very handsome, wearing his dark blue jeans, a black and red button down short sleeved shirt, and black sneakers. He had one of Steven's old Jansport backpacks strapped over his shoulder. His hair was combed out, too.

"You look great," Angela said, smiling at him, "All of the girls in your classes are going to fall for you."

Ichabod blushed, "I doubt that."

"You're too hard on yourself. I'm sure you'll have a bunch of ladies after you. Just be nice, and try to make friends. Remember that most of the students will be a bit younger than you, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't talk to them."

"Okay," Ichabod replied.

"Do you have everything? Your cell phone? Bus pass? House key? Oh, here," Angela said, pulling a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket, "In case you want to buy yourself some coffee or lunch."

"I have it all, don't worry," Ichabod answered, "pulling out his phone and bus pass to show her. He took the money as well.

"Okay, okay, sorry to fuss over you. I'm just excited for you. I loved going to school there, so it's sort of a throwback for me. You'd better get going; the bus will be there in twenty minutes. Call me if you need anything!"

Ichabod smiled at her, and leaned in so Angela could give him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later," he said, walking towards the door.

_Part 47_

The bus ride went fairly well, and Ichabod ended up on campus about thirty minutes before Algebra started. To kill some time, he wandered over to the Dunkin Donuts for some coffee. The place was filled with other students, many, as Angela had said, that were younger than him. No one seemed to really give him a second look, though.

After he got his coffee, he watched some students perform a human chess game in the student center, before heading over to the classroom.

Algebra had gone okay. The professor seemed to be a bit strict, and had jumped right into the first lesson, not taking any time for introductions. Ichabod had sat off to the right side of the classroom, closer to the front, and tried to follow along as best he could. Math had never been a strong point for him, and given that his formal education was essentially equivalent to that of a fifth grader in this time, he had a bit of trouble.

Ichabod sighed as he wrote down the homework for that night, trying to ignore the two kids next to him who were talking extremely loudly as everyone packed up. He hoped that Steven might be able to help him with his work. The man obviously had to be good at math to have become a physicist.

After class, Ichabod went to get another cup of coffee, this time choosing to enjoy it outside. The campus itself was quite beautiful, with large lawns surrounding it. There was a small lot off to the side where numerous students were hanging out, so Ichabod went to go join them.

As he got closer, he realized that he was in the middle of a designated smoking area. Everyone there was smoking cigarettes and talking. The smoke bothered him a little, but he decided to stay anyway. He was staring into space, drinking his coffee, when he heard avoice.

"Hey, man," another student asked. The guy looked a little younger than Ichabod, and was wearing a black Anthrax shirt and torn up jeans. He had long dark hair, like Ichabod's, and pale skin as well, though the boy was a little chubbier and had a rounder face.

"I'm sorry?" Ichabod asked, unsure if the guy was talking to him.

"Yeah, hey, aren't you in my Algebra class?" the student asked.

Ichabod studied him for a second, before realizing that he had indeed seen the guy earlier that day.

"Yes, I believe so," Ichabod answered.

"Man, Professor Nargiello is tough, isn't he? I'm Brian, by the way," he said, holding out his hand.

"Ichabod," the constable replied, shaking Brian's hand weakly, "And yes, he seems to be very strict."

"Ichabod's an interesting name," Brian quipped, "What kinda name is it?"

Ichabod stared at Brian for a second, trying to see if the boy was being rude, or actually serious. When Brian didn't smile or laugh, he decided that he wasn't playing around.

"Its...er, biblical," Ichabod replied, softly.

"Ohh," Brian said, "Are you real religious?"

Ichabod snorted, trying not to laugh at the question. "Not in the least."

Brian smiled, "Oh, cool, me too. I was raised Catholic but got tired of that bulshit when I was in high school. I consider myself and atheist now."

Ichabod nodded, "I can understand that."

There was a short silence, during which Brian took out a cigarette and lit up. "So what major are you?" he asked, as he exhaled.

"Undecided... I would like to use my credits to earn a degree in Criminal Justice. Or Forensics, maybe," Ichabod said, trying not to cough.

Brian noticed the other man's discomfort and began blowing the smoke away from them, intentionally. "Nice."

"And you?" Ichabod questioned.

"Oh, I'm doing Art. Animation. But I have to take math as a pre-req to get the degree."

"That sounds interesting," Ichabod said, sincerely. He hadn't known many artists in his life.

"Yeah, it's neat. I've always loved to draw so it was either animation or be a tattoo artist, and I just don't think I can handle the pressure of that," Brian exhaled again, and put out his cigarette. "I've got to go Chemistry. I'll see you on Friday morning?"

"Yes, I'll be there."

Brian smiled, "Nice meeting you."

"Likewise," Ichabod said, "Have a good day."

Ichabod walked to his next class, feeling very happy about finally making a friend.

_Part 48_

"So how was school today?" Angela asked, as she prepared dinner that evening. Steven, who was playing video games, turned his attention to Ichabod as the man began to speak.

"It was alright," he replied, quietly, "Math class is a bit difficult. Psychology was good, though. The teacher is young and very friendly, and she seems to enjoy the subject very much."

Angela smiled, "That's good. I'm sure Steven can help you with math if you need it, right?"

Steven nodded, "Sure."

"And I met a new friend today," Ichabod continued.

"Oh yeah? What's their name?" Angela pressed.

"Brian. He's in my math class."

"That's great!", Angela said. She was truly glad that Ichabod had met someone else to talk to. "What's he like?"

"Well... I think he's younger than me. And he has long black hair, and pale skin, and he had a shirt that said 'Anthrax' on it. He's an Art student, focusing on Animation."

"Wow, sounds like an interesting person," Angela replied, "You should bring him by sometime."

Ichabod smiled softly, "Yes, maybe. I think I need to get to know him better."

Angela nodded, "Of course. I meant, when you feel comfortable doing so. Dinner's ready, by the way." She began placing plates of pasta and meatballs on the table. Steven came into the kitchen shortly thereafter, and they had a nice, normal dinner.

_Part 49_

Thursday's classes were English, History, and Biology.

Biology was the first class of the day, and Ichabod found it extremely interesting, though a bit slow paced for him. It was something he had an aptitude for, and he craved more in depth knowledge about the subject, so having to wait for the rest of the class to catch up was frustrating. But, he supposed he'd just have to cope with it.

English was taught by a rather old professor who seemed like she'd probably been teaching the subject since Ichabod's original time. She wrote at an insanely slow pace, and tended to mumble under her breath. Ichabod found it hard to pay attention to her, so he read the text book instead. As he was turning the pages, a girl to the left of him caught his eye.

She was pale, and thin, with long red frizzy hair, freckles, and glasses. She wore several black and blue plastic bracelets on her arms, and had on a tight black tshirt with a cartoon character on it. Ichabod recognized it as being Invader Zim, as Steven often watched that show at home. Her pants, on the other hand, were bright red and black flannel patterned, with zippers going in random directions. Instead of sitting like the other students, with her feet on the ground, she sat cross legged on the chair. Ichabod thought that she looked... interesting.

Obviously, the girl was not paying attention to the professor. Instead she was busy doodling in her notebook drawing dragons and fairies, it looked like.

The girl must've felt that she was being stared at, because she soon turned to face Ichabod. Immediately, he felt nervous, but calmed a bit when she flashed him a small smile.

To avoid being rude, Ichabod returned his attention to his text book. A few minutes later, though, and he felt someone tap his leg. He looked over to see the girl holding out a small piece of paper to him.

He looked at the girl, and then looked at the paper, then back at the girl, before deciding to take it.

Carefully, he unfolded it, finding it to be a note.

"My name is Jane," was all it said.

He smirked, and began to write back. "Hello Jane. My name is Ichabod. Before you ask, it's a name from the bible."

He quietly handed her back the note, and watched as she silently laughed after reading it. Unsure of whether she was thinking poorly of him, perhaps because of his name, he blushed, and tried to keep his gaze on his book. Hopefully if he didn't look over again, she would just leave him alone.

A minute later, and the note was back on his desk.

"That's a cool name. I've never heard it. This class is boring. Where are you from?"

Ichabod half smiled, and began to again reply. "Yes, it is. I live in Corona, Queens. And you?"

"Floral Park. You're cute. Would you like to get coffee after class?"

Ichabod nodded to himself as he read the request. He considered it for a moment… He'd never actually been out on a date with a woman before. Was getting coffee after class even considered a date?, he wondered. And in his time, men were expected to be the ones to take the lead… obviously things had changed a bit. But… this was a new life, a chance to do things differently. And besides, he could always drop the class they shared if it went badly, right?

Pushing down any nervousness he felt, Ichabod swallowed before writing back, "I'd like that".

Jane took the note, smiled to herself, and put it down.

_Part 50_

Jane waited for Ichabod directly outside the classroom, and together they walked to the Dunkin Donuts. It was packed, as per usual, but Ichabod didn't mind. It gave him a chance to get to know the girl with him.

Jane, like Brian, was also an art major, but was focused more on Fine Arts. She was also minoring in Creative Writing. They were discussing one of the episodes of Invader Zim when Jane noticed a friend of hers, and waved them over. It turned out to be none other than Brian.

"Hey, Janie," the gothic boy said, giving her a side hug. He smiled and nodded in Ichabod's direction as a way of greeting him.

"You know each other?" Ichabod asked, somewhat surprised.

Jane nodded, "Yeah, Brian lives in the same building as me, right down the hall. And we have a few classes together."

"I see. Small world," Ichabod noted.

The three chatted for a while, waiting to get their coffee, and then went outside to the smoking area so that Brian and Jan could light up.

"So how old are you?" Brian asked Ichabod, taking a drag of his cigarette, "You seem a little older than most of the kids here. Are you changing careers or something?"

Ichabod blushed, being a little embarrassed at his age difference being pointed out. "I'm twenty nine," he stated. "It's my first time in school actually."

Both Jane and Brian nodded, and Jane spoke up, "So what'd you do before?"

"I, uhm," Ichabod started, trying to come up with a feasible excuse, "I worked for the, uh, police department. Doing paperwork. I wanted to advance in my field, so I'm here."

"Ah, okay," Jane said, taking another pull, "That's fair."

"You both seem to be a bit younger than me," Ichabod said, again feeling slightly embarrassed.

Brian shrugged, "Eh, I'm 21. Jane here's… how old are you?" he asked, turning to the redhead.

"Nineteen."

Brian smiled, turned to Ichabod and winked, "At least she's legal, eh?".

Jane punched him softly in the stomach after that, for 'being a jackass', and Ichabod just stared, sort of unsure of what to make of the comment. When he saw Jane and Brian laughing he decided it was probably a joke so he smiled. The whole conversation felt awkward; he wondered if the other two noticed it as well. He wasn't particularly good in social situations.

If they did notice, neither Brian nor Jane said anything about it. They ended up having to leave soon, anyway. Brian had to go to work, Jane to a sculpture class, and Ichabod had history that afternoon. They did manage to exchange numbers, though, and agreed to meet up the following week.

_Part 51_

For the next few weeks, the three would meet up after Math or English classes to smoke or talk. During that time, Ichabod had learned a lot about both of his new friends. Brian, for instance, was originally from Oregon, but had moved to New York to start a career as an artist. When it didn't work out doing freelance work, he decided to get a degree in Animation. He and his younger brother shared an apartment.

Jane had grown up in New Jersey, but moved to Queens when she was seventeen to get away from her "crazy, abusive parents", as she said. Prior to living where she was, she'd wandered aimlessly through the city, sleeping in parks, homeless shelters, and in one of her friend's cars. Eventually she'd managed to get a job off the books, and saved enough money to put down on the small studio apartment she now lived in.

Besides being a full time student, Jane supported herself by working as a waitress, and at a local comic book store on weekends. She seemed to read a lot, too, and was a very good artist. She'd shown Ichabod some of her drawings of dragons, gnomes and other mythical creatures, and he'd been instantly impressed.

The more Ichabod got to know Jane, the more he found her attractive. She was kind of a geeky girl, but she was sweet and funny and interesting, besides being independent, driven, and intelligent. Seeing her gave him a weird nervous feeling that was both bad and good. It almost felt like he just HAD to be near her. Wanted to be near her. Wanted to do things for her, to make her happy. Wanted to kiss her and touch her forever. Really, it was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Even his feelings for Katrina were nothing compared to this.

Jane seemed to like him too. Ichabod wasn't 100% sure on it, but she often gave him hugs when she saw him or a kiss on the cheek. She seemed overall happy to be around him. Each time he saw her, he tried to work up the courage to ask her out on a real date. And each time he tried, he got too nervous to do so.

Finally, Jane took the first step once again.

"Sooo," she started, during one of their coffee breaks, "I was wondering if you wanted to do something Friday night?"

Ichabod stared at her for a minute, shocked at what she'd just asked. When he was finally sure that he could speak coherently, he opened his mouth. "Like… going out…?" he asked awkwardly.

Jane laughed, "Yeah, sorta like that, I guess. I mean, if you want to. You don't have to; obviously…I'd understand if you weren't interested…"

"Huh?" Ichabod said, snapping out of his daze, "Of course I'm interested! I mean. Yes, I'd like that." He blushed.

Jane smiled, and cupped his face with her hand, "You're so cute when you do that. There's no need to be nervous, though. I promise, I won't bite unless you want me to." She winked at him after that.

Ichabod's jaw dropped. "I'dlikethat!" he spat out, before he could stop himself, "I mean. Er. Yeah." He cast his gazed to the ground, embarrassed.

Jane smiled even bigger, "Like I said, so cute! I have to go to class now. Do you want to go to your place, Friday?"

Ichabod frowned. He still hadn't really gotten around to explaining his whole living situation. Or that he didn't work. Or that he had anxiety problems and needed meds. Or anything really about himself other than that he was 29 and wanted to be a Forensic Scientist.

Jane noticed the look on his face, and quickly spoke up. "Orrrrr, you can come by my place. It's kinda small, though."

"Your place would be better," Ichabod answered, "If that's okay."

"Sure," Jane nodded. Give me a call when you're out of class Friday. I don't have work that day. We can go back to my place after school."

"Alright."

"See you later!"

Ichabod nodded, smiling at Jane as she left.

**A/N:** I sorta picture Brian as looking like Gerard Way from My Chemical Romance. But younger. And I know it says not romance…. Well we will just see how this plays out with Jane and all that.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Sorry this took forever. I kinda stopped it in favor of writing other stories, but since I got nice reviews I figured I'd update.

_Part 52_

At first Ichabod had been unsure whether or not to tell Angela and Steve about his date on Friday. On one hand, he felt kind of embarrassed mentioning it, as he was old enough to where he should've had experience in that field already. On the other hand, they'd probably ask where he was if he didn't show up after classes. In the end, he decided to let them know. He did so at dinner that evening.

"So, how was class today?" Angela asked. She asked the same question every night, it seemed.

"Good. I... er. Jane asked me to see her after class next week."

"Ohh! That's great!" Angela replied. "Is Brian going to be there too?"

"I don't think so." Ichabod turned his gaze towards the food that Angela had made, "I think it might be just her and I."

"Well, make sure to wear protection," Steve said, under his breath.

"I'm sorry?" Ichabod asked.

"Nevermind. Just have fun."

Angela looked at Steve and rolled her eyes.

"Ignore him. Well.. no, actually, don't ignore him. I mean... like he said, just have fun."

Ichabod blushed, and began playing with his food, not saying anything.

"Where are you guys going to go?" Steve asked, after an awkward silence.

"Jane invited me to go to her apartment after school."

"Wow. I mean, you're an adult and all, but you might want to slow it down a bit," Angela suggested.

"Why?" Ichabod asked, confused.

"It's just, if it's your first real date... Are you sure she doesn't just want one thing?"

Ichabod sighed, now getting annoyed.

"You don't know her, so I don't think it's fair of you to judge her that way."

"I'm not judging her, I'm just stating that it's unusual for someone to invite you over to their apartment on the first date unless they want to have sex."

Now it was Ichabod's turn to roll his eyes. He pushed his plate away, and got up.

"I'd prefer not to talk about this," he said, then walked out before anyone could answer.

_Part 53_

The rest of the week went slowly. Ichabod completely avoided conversation with Steve and Angela about his upcoming date.

When Friday finally came, he got up early to choose what to wear. As he quietly chose his outfit and shoes, Ichabod couldn't help but think it was slightly pathetic that he was so concerned about how Jane would perceive him. Still, his desire to impress the young woman overrode that. He settled on a dark red button up shirt, black jeans and black sneakers. After getting dressed, he brushed his hair, making sure it wasn't the unruly mess that it usually was.

Instead of eating breakfast with the others, he slipped out before they even woke up, taking the earliest bus that came. He ended up about two hours early for classes, but it was worth waiting around if it meant not having to argue about Jane.

As promised, he called her as soon as his last class was over. She met him in the smoking area. Ichabod couldn't help but be amazed at how she looked. She had a short, leopard print skirt on, black leggings and a black button up long sleeved shirt. Her hair was down, but she had little clips that pulled the sides back a bit and gave it volume. Obviously she'd dressed up for the evening.

"Hi... Wow," he said, trying hard not to look her over too much, "You look beautiful."

Jane smiled, "Thanks. You look pretty good yourself!"

Ichabod blushed at the compliment. "Thank you..."

"So, I parked over in Lot C if you don't mind walking," Jane said, pointing in the general direction of the lot. "It's down that way."

"You have a car?"

"Well, yeah. It's kinda necessary considering how much I work."

"Oh, I didn't mean that to cause offense," Ichabod replied, "I'm sorry."

Jane shook her head, "You worry a lot. Chill. I'm not offended. Most people in the city take public transportation."

"Steve and Angela have cars," Ichabod answered.

"Steve and Angela?"

Ichabod realized then that he'd never told Jane who they were. His quickly thought of how best to explain it without sounding too lame.

"We live together," he finally said, "In Corona."

"Roommates, then? I get that."

Ichabod nodded. He'd tell her eventually that it was actually Steve and Angela's house that he lived at, but for now 'roommates' would do.

After a few minutes of walking, they reached Jane's car. It was a beat up old, bright red Altima.

"Yeah, it's kinda crappy," she said, manually unlocking the passenger side door, "But it works."

"I'm not judging." Ichabod sat down in the car.

The two sat in a comfortable silence as Jane drove them back to her apartment complex. It was located in a decent area. The building itself was rather large, and Ichabod briefly wondered how Jane didn't get lost going in and out.

"This is where you live?" he asked, as she pulled into one of the parking spaces in the lot underneath.

"Yup. Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's not bad. It's big."

"It is, but it's home."

Jane locked the doors to the car. "Let's go in."

Ichabod followed Jane into the front lobby of the building. There were other people there, too, all very different. Some were old, some were younger, around Jane's age. A few seemed to be parents with children.

"I'm on the eight floor. We have to take the elevator up."

Ichabod nodded, and watched as Jane pressed the button on the elevator.

They got on along with two parents who had several kids with them. Jane greeted them kindly. She must've known them because they were friendly to her, too. They got off on the seventh floor.

"That's Mark and Tammy," she explained, after they got off. "They've lived here for ten years. That's their kids."

"Oh." Ichabod didn't really know what to say. "You know them well, then?"

"We see each other in passing."

The elevator dinged as it got to the eight floor.

"I'm down the hall to the right," Jane explained, as they stepped out.

Ichabod followed her quietly until they came to a door near the end of the hallway marked '836'. Jane pulled out her keys and began unlocking what seemed like at least three or four locks.

"Can't be too careful," she said, undoing the fourth lock.

She opened the door and allowed Ichabod to walk in before her. The first thing he noticed was that everything was... pink. The walls were pink, the bed covers were pink, even the couch across the room was a dark shade of pink.

"Pink's my favorite color," Jane said, closing the door behind them.

"I see."

"I need to go freshen up a bit. Why don't you go sit down?" Jane offered.

"Okay." Ichabod began walking towards the couch, but Jane stopped him.

"The bed is more comfortable," Jane said, smirking.

"...Okay..." Ichabod replied again, before heading towards the bed.

He heard the bathroom door click closed as he sat down, and took a minute to examine his surroundings more closely. There were stuffed animals – toy cats, it looked like – on the bed, several books on a small book shelf and fur covered handcuffs on the nightstand. Wait. Ichabod looked at the handcuffs again, unsure of what he was actually seeing. He wondered if maybe Angela was right about Jane, the mentally smacked himself for thinking that. No way. Jane was a nice girl. Maybe the handcuffs were a joke gift that someone had given to her, or something that she thought was a novelty. Yet, in the back of his mind, Ichabod couldn't help but be slightly turned on by it.

A second later Jane stepped out. Ichabod's jaw dropped. She was wearing... nothing. Just standing there, totally naked.

"Wow..." Ichabod whispered. He could feel himself getting nervous. Jane was beautiful, her body was perfect, and he didn't want to mess anything up.

"You like?" Jane asked, walking over to him.

"Um. Yes.."

Even from a few feet away, Jane could see that her date's hands were shaking. He was scared. It amused her, and she stalked over, planted a kiss on Ichabod's lips and began to undress him.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Ichabod thinks too much and doesn't really understand a lot of things in life because of his general lack of experience, so keep that in mind when reading this.

_Part 54_

So that was it. Ichabod wasn't a virgin anymore.

The first time they'd done it, it'd been fast. He'd felt Jane's warmth and tightness for less than a minute before unexpectedly finishing. Mortified, Ichabod had almost cried. He hadn't expected it to go like that. In his thoughts, and according to everything he'd ever heard about sex, it was supposed to be wonderful and sensual and last more than thirty seconds.

Jane could see that Ichabod was upset.

"Don't cry," she whispered, kissing him on shoulder, "It's alright."

She'd led him to the shower, where she'd continued to kiss and touch him. At some point she'd washed his hair with something that smelled like peppermint. The way she pulled it, biting his neck as she ran her hands through his hair, turned him on again.

Their second go at it had been better than the first. Jane had still taken the lead, but Ichabod had managed to last a lot longer this time. He'd never felt anything like it, before. Masturbation paled in comparison to have a beautiful woman on top of you, moving up and down and kissing you all over.

Now Ichabod was back home, lying on his bed. Jane had dropped him off an hour prior. He could still smell the peppermint scent on himself and it reminded him of her. In fact, Jane was all that he could think about. He wanted her. Even though they'd just been together, he missed her already. He had never felt like this before, not even towards Katrina. Sure, he'd cared for Katrina, but for Jane…Ichabod thought that he might just about do _anything_ that Jane asked of him.

_Part 55_

Ichabod hadn't intended to tell Angela or Steven what had happened. He felt that it might open a can of worms, that Steven and Angela would asks for details and give him condoms and all of the awkward things that he just didn't want to deal with.

Instead, Ichabod focused his thoughts on Jane. He'd tried to call her in the morning, but there was no answer. He'd tried again around noon, but again, she didn't pick up. He was starting to worry until it hit him that since it was a Saturday, Jane would be working at the comic shop all day. It wouldn't be unrealistic that she had left her phone off.

For most of the rest of the weekend, Ichabod stayed in his room, either trying to call Jane or fantasizing about her. He couldn't wait to see her on Monday but wondered why she had yet to return his calls. It was Sunday night, now. He couldn't help but worry, but he didn't want to come off as crazy, either.

Finally, around ten that evening, Ichabod's phone went off. Jane had finally sent him a text. The noise woke him up – he'd fallen asleep just a few minutes earlier, but he didn't care.

"Got ur msgs. Bsy at wk this wkd. C u l8r."

Ichabod raised an eyebrow, trying to understand what Jane had said.

"Got your messages, busy at work this weekend, see you later," he read off to himself.

Well, at least he knew that she was safe. It made sense that she was busy, too. Jane worked A LOT. He couldn't possibly hold it against her if she were working long hours. If anything, he figured that he should get a job as well. Jane deserved better than someone who only went to school and came home. If she could work, so could he.

Ichabod looked back down at the phone, having processed all of these thoughts.

"Its OK," he wrote back, "See you later. I miss you."

He'd been wary about the last part, but in the end he figured it was best to be honest. He did miss Jane and he couldn't wait to see her again.

There were no other replies from Jane that night. Eventually Ichabod was able to go back to sleep. He'd see Jane tomorrow, at school, and maybe they could talk more then.

_Part 56_

Jane was late to English class that morning. Ichabod had waited for her outside, but when it came time for the class to start, he went in, feeling a bit upset. Jane was fairly prompt to her classes, but she walked in half way through the lesson that day.

She calmly slid into a seat in the back of the room, far away from where Ichabod was. He made eye contact her as she entered, but Jane made no move to say hi at all.

After class got out, though, her whole demeanor seemed to change. She and Ichabod had decided to get some coffee, and she had been talking the entire time, explaining how she'd overslept that morning because she'd been working the late shift the night before. Neither brought up the events on Friday, but that was okay. Ichabod didn't really know what to say about it anyway. He did want to see Jane outside of school again, though.

"So…" he started, looking down at his coffee. Despite having been intimate with Jane, he still felt nervous around her at times. "Would you like to get together on Friday again?"

Jane grinned, "I'd definitely like to… but I have plans that day, unfortunately."

"Oh." Ichabod tried his best to hide his disappointment.

"I could go out tomorrow night, though," she offered.

Ichabod perked up again. "That'd be great. Where do you want to go? We could walk around downtown or see a movie…"

"Oh my God, you're SO cute," Jane said. She seemed to say that a lot. "Sure, we can walk around if you like."

"Anything you want." He'd have to see if Steven or Angela might give him some money, but Ichabod wasn't too concerned. They tended to give him money on the few times that he'd asked.

"Let's just see where it goes. I'll meet you out here after classes are done? Call me when you get out."

"Sure."

Jane threw out her coffee, "Great. I have to get going to work. I'll see you later then."

"See you later, Jane," Ichabod called out, watching as she walked away.

_Part 57_

As promised, Ichabod called Jane as soon as classes were over the next day. He'd gotten dressed nicely that morning, wearing a dark blue long sleeved shirt and again, black jeans. The look seemed to fit him well. He'd combed his hair, shaved, and had managed to get Steve to give him 50$ before he left.

Jane didn't answer when he called, so he left her a message and walked to get some coffee for himself. Sometimes her art classes ran overtime, or she got caught up on a project.

After finishing his coffee, he checked the clock again. It was five thirty. Jane should've been out by five. He reached for his phone to call her again, and the call went straight to voicemail.

Finally, by six, Ichabod gave up. Obviously Jane had something else to do besides see him. It still hurt, though. All he wanted was to make her happy.

He took the bus home, getting in just as Angela was cleaning up dinner.

"Oh, hey," she greeted him, "I thought you'd be out later. We just finished eating but there's some leftovers…"

"It's okay," Ichabod said, "I'm not really hungry." Despite his efforts, Ichabod couldn't hide the sadness he was feeling.

Angela motioned for him to sit at the table, and she took a seat across from him.

"Did something happen with Jane?" she asked.

Ichabod sighed, "It's hard to explain."

"Give it a shot," Angela encouraged.

"She didn't show up today. We were supposed to meet after class, and I called her, but she didn't pick up or show up."

"Oh… do you have any idea why? Is she busy, maybe? Sometimes I don't pick up if Steven calls if I'm busy at work."

"She didn't have work today, just art class."

"Well… did something happen the last time you saw her that might make her act funny towards you?"

Ichabod thought about this for a second, then everything clicked into place. What if Jane was acting funny because something had happened? When they'd had sex… it'd be so spur of the moment, and they hadn't used protection. Ichabod paled a bit at his next thought. What if she was pregnant, and she didn't want him to know? Maybe that's why she was acting so funny. Maybe she was going to go get rid of it, or was sick or something like that. Then again, he wondered if she would even know if she was pregnant in three days. Didn't it take longer to find that out? His mind raced with different thoughts of possibilities, and he was so zoned out that he didn't hear Angela talking to him.

"Ichabod!" she said, for the fourth time.

"Huh?"

"I asked you a question."

"Oh…" he could barely remember what the question was, but he answered anyway. "No, I don't think so….I have to go."

Before Angela could get a word in, Ichabod had gotten up and ran upstairs. He locked himself in the bathroom, and, overcome with fear about what might be happening with Jane, got sick repeatedly.


	14. Chapter 14

___A/N: I'm kinda trying to describe the rollercoaster of emotions that come with being in love and having sex for the first time, especially if the person is really inexperienced socially. Dunno if that helps put this next part in perspective or not, but I remember feeling up and down all the time when it came to my first love. _

___Part 58_

An entire week went by before Ichabod saw Jane again. He'd tried calling her several times, and had asked Brian if he'd seen her, but he'd only seen her in passing now and then. She'd finally shown up in English class, having missed the class earlier in the week. She didn't even look at Ichabod as she walked in and took her seat.

A few minutes into the lesson, Ichabod started writing her a note.

'What happened last week? Are you OK?'

He passed it over to her, watching as she unfolded it and read it. She smiled and began to write back.

'I'm okay. I got caught up with an art project, sorry about that. How have you been?'

Ichabod read the note, and wasn't sure how to feel. He'd kind of hoped that Jane would have had a great excuse for totally ignoring him for the past week. And, the thought that she might be pregnant or something to that extent still bothered him.

'Are you feeling alright? I tried calling you a few times.'

He passed the note back to Jane, trying to make sure that no one saw him do it. This time, he didn't watch her as she read it.

A minute later, the paper was back on his desk.

'I'm feeling fine. My phone got turned off. Are YOU okay though?'

Ichabod sighed, wondering if he should just be honest with her.

'I have been worried about you,' he wrote back, 'I care about you a lot. I was worried that something had happened.'

Ichabod passed the note back to her.

The next one that he received was very concise.

'Meet me after class.'

_Part 59_

After the class ended, Ichabod waited for Jane out in the hallway. She was the last one out of the room.

Ichabod wasn't entirely sure what to say. Luckily, Jane spoke up first.

"Want to get some coffee?"

"Okay..."

The two walked silently for a while towards the D&D. Finally, Ichabod worked up the nerve to say what was on his mind.

"Jane, what's wrong?"

The red headed girl stopped walking, and turned to look at Ichabod.

"Nothing's wrong."

She began to start walking again, but Ichabod grabbed her arm, stopping her from doing so.

"You've been ignoring me since last week."

Jane sighed. "I'm fine, Ichabod. Are you okay, though? You look a little... tired."

Ichabod blushed, feeling self conscious. He really was very tired. He hadn't been able to sleep much the past week, or eat really. He'd been too nervous, thinking about the possible repercussions of the fling that he and Jane had had.

"I've been a bit stressed out."

Jane frowned, "Over me?"

Ichabod nodded, "I wasn't sure...I was worried that maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"Well, I was worried about you, and I was worried because... well... when we did things, we didn't use any protection, and I didn't know if maybe you were...you know..."

"Huh?" Jane sincerely looked confused, but then it seemed to hit her. "OH. You thought I was pregnant?"

"I wasn't sure why you wouldn't call me back..."

"I'm on birth control, you know," Jane said, laughing a bit, "I'm definitely not having a kid."

Ichabod could feel most of the tension he'd been feeling the past week leave his body. Still, he wanted to understand why exactly Jane had ignored him.

"Can we keep walking? It's kinda cold out here," Jane said, looking around. The campus lawns were still gorgeous, but it was definitely getting colder now that winter was coming.

"Sure."

The two walked a little further, until they got to the Dunkin Donuts. Ichabod bought them both coffee while Jane found a place to sit.

As Ichabod put the coffee down, Jane began to talk again.

"So...I guess you must really like me, if you were that worried."

"I do like you. A lot. If what I thought had been true I would have done anything to help you."

"Really? Like, you'd marry me?"

Ichabod nodded, "If it would make you happy then yes."

"Wow." Jane took a sip of her drink. "But, there's a problem."

"What's that?"

"I think... I mean, you're a very sweet person. Really. You're one of the nicest men I've ever met. I just don't want to move things too fast. I wasn't expecting a relationship out of this."

"Move too fast? You're the one...I don't understand! What exactly do you want, then?" Ichabod felt a strange mixture of frustration, anger, and confusion all at once.

"I was looking for a good time. I know...I know it was your first time, and that means it was special for you. I hope you at least enjoyed it. I'd like it if we could just take things slow... get to know each other more, and see where it goes from there. But if you meet anyone else that you like, go for them, okay?"

"I like you, though, Jane," Ichabod replied, "I thought you liked me too."

Jane sighed. She could see how much her friend was hurt right then. It was written all over his face. He looked like he would cry at any second.

"I _do_ like you. Let's just... Oh, I don't know. Brian's having a party tomorrow night. I was going to go. Do you want to come with me?"

"He didn't mention any party to me," Ichabod answered, "But okay."

"It was sort of a last minute thing. He texted me earlier. Check your phone, he probably texted you too. Anyway, we can do that together, okay?"

"Sure."

"I have to get going to work. Meet over at my place, tomorrow night at eight. And I won't stand you up again, I promise."

"Alright...", Ichabod said, " I'll believe you."

_Part 60_

Back at the house, Angela and Steven were busy searching around on their computer.

"I never taught him how to erase the history on it, so we should be able to see whatever websites he has been to," Steven said.

The couple was trying to figure out what was wrong with Ichabod. He'd been acting very strange lately. They'd hear him at night, pacing around or watching television until the very early morning hours. He seemed tired constantly but never seemed to sleep. Neither of them could get him to eat much, either. Even when Angela made his favorite food, he turned it away, saying he didn't feel well, but he wouldn't tell anyone what was bothering him. Finally they had the idea of searching the computer. Maybe he'd left some clues there.

"The first website is , and it looks like he searched something on pregnancy."

Angela raised an eyebrow. "Pregnancy?"

"Apparently. Next one is a wikipedia article... again about pregnancy, one about morning sickness, too."

"Christ. Do you think that means he got that Jane girl pregnant?"

"I don't know what else to think," Steve replied, "I mean, why would he be searching this stuff?"

Right then, the front door opened, and Ichabod walked in. Steven quickly closed out of the browser.

"Hi," Ichabod greeted them, putting his backpack down, "Are we eating dinner any time soon? I'm starving."

"I just finished making it, actually," Angela said, "We can go eat now."

The three sat down at the table, and Ichabod immediately began loading up his plate with pasta and chicken and bread. Knowing that he was going to see Jane again tomorrow, and that she wasn't pregnant, made him feel a hundred times better than he had in the past week, and his appetite had finally returned.

"Slow down," Angela said, as Ichabod shoveled the food into his mouth, "You're going to make yourself sick. What's going on with you? First you're all mopey for a week and we can't get you to eat at all, now you're eating like it's your last meal."

Ichabod made an effort to slow his pace down. "Sorry," he said, "I was just upset before. I'm fine now."

"Is this about that girl Jane?" Steven asked.

Ichabod almost dropped his fork. He hadn't expected either of them to ask about her.

"No... why?"

Angela and Steven looked at each other, then back at Ichabod.

"Did you get her pregnant?" Steven asked.

Ichabod's mouth dropped open. "How... no, she's not pregnant. But how did you know I was worried about that?"

"Don't worry about it. She's definitely not, though?"

"She's not."

"Is that what's been bothering you?" Angela asked.

Ichabod put his utensils down, not feeling very hungry anymore. He figured he may as well be honest with Angela and Steven. It'd worked with Jane, so they might be understanding as well.

"Yes. That Friday when we got together... at her apartment... we did things," Ichabod could feel his face starting to turn red, "I didn't expect it. Then she didn't answer my calls or my messages... and then last week we were supposed to spend time together, and she didn't show up. I thought maybe she just didn't want to tell me that she was..." Ichabod trailed off, staring down at his plate. He didn't feel comfortable looking at either of them in the eyes.

"You've got to be more careful," Angela said, sternly, "You're old enough to understand this."

"I know," Ichabod replied, meekly, "I'm sorry."

"Is there anything else?" Steven asked.

"Tomorrow night Brian is having a party and I was going to ask if one of you could take me there."

"Is Jane going to be there?"

"Yes."

Steve shook his head, "I'll take you but you have to promise that you'll make an effort to think things through in the future."

"I will," Ichabod replied, "I promise, I will."


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N This is just me coping with my mom OD'ing. Plus I wanted to torture Ichabod. Because he's so cute when he's sick._

_Part 61_

The following evening, Steven dropped Ichabod off at the apartment complex that Jane and Brian lived in.

"Do you still have the money I gave you last week?" Steven asked.

"Yes."

"Use it to take a cab home later. Or call us if there's any problems, or if you're going to stay over. If I have to, I'll come get you."

"Alright. Thank you," Ichabod said, getting out of the car.

He'd again made an effort to look good for the evening. He had on some dark blue jeans, a black and blue button down shirt and his black sneakers. He used the mirror in the elevator to look himself over once more before seeing Jane.

As he fixed the last strand of hair that was out of place, the elevator dinged, indicating that he was on Jane's floor. Ichabod walked out, into the hallway, towards Jane's room.

He knocked on the door.

"Jane? Are you there?"

"Coming!" Jane replied.

She came to the door a second later, wearing a tight pair of jeans and a tight black shirt with what looked like an evil pink bunny on it. She had little pink bows in her hair. All in all, Ichabod thought she looked adorable.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"Sure. You look very nice," Ichabod said, as Jane locked up.

"Thanks! Brian's down on the sixth floor, so we can take the stairs."

Ichabod nodded in agreement, and followed Jane towards the stairwell.

As soon as they reached the sixth floor, Ichabod could tell that there was a party going on. He could hear the music from the entrance to the hall.

"I guess that's them?" he asked, nervously.

"Yup."

Ichabod continued to follow Jane until they reached the source of the music, a room all the way on the other side of the hall. Jane knocked on the door, then opened it, holding the door open for Ichabod to follow.

Brian's apartment was dark, but there were some black lights set up along with some smaller lamps so at least they could somewhat see. People were sitting around talking, smoking, and a few were busy playing some type of video game.

"Hey, Janie!" Brian said, giving Jane a hug, "And Ichabod! Glad you're here too." Brian looked around at the rest of the guests, "That's Matt, Mike, Shellie, Trent, Trent's girlfriend Lola, Joey, Joey B., and that's my brother Brennan."

Brennan looked like a shorter, thinner, more heavily tattooed version of Brian. He gave Jane a hug, and shook Ichabod's hand.

"There's drinks in the kitchen," he said, "Come on."

Brennan led Ichabod and Jane into the kitchen, and pointed to the 'bar'. There were several bottles of Bacardi, vodka, Jameson, and Jack Daniels, along with a cooler full of beer.

"I'll have a shot of Jack," Jane said, eyeing the whiskey.

Brennan nodded, "And you?" he looked at Ichabod.

"Um..." Ichabod remembered the last time he'd tried drinking, and how it'd made him feel. But, he didn't want to come off badly to Jane. "I'll have what she's having."

"Okay."

Brennan returned a moment later, holding two glasses. He poured about half a cup of whiskey into each, then handed them off to Ichabod and Jane.

"This is way more than a shot," Jane said, but she began to drink it anyway.

Ichabod followed, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the feeling of the alcohol burning its way down his throat. Somehow, he managed to finish the whole thing. Jane apparently had, too, because she was holding out her glass, waiting for more.

Brennan poured them both some more, and Jane smiled. "We're gonna get fucked up tonight!"

Jane and Ichabod drank the second glasses of whiskey down.

"Awesome," Jane said, "Let's go back out."

Ichabod followed her out into the room where the party was mainly being held. As they walked, he started feeling the effects of the whiskey. Unlike when he'd had the vodka, he felt totally calm now. Almost happy. Ready for anything.

"Marco... or Margaret. Or whatever your name is," Jane said, to what looked like a man... in a dress?

"Margaret tonight," the man... woman... person... corrected her. "What's up?"

"You guys got any weed? We wanna get fucked tonight. Oh, Ichabod, this is Marco. Or Margaret. I know her from class. Margaret, this is Ichabod. It's a funny name, right?"

Margaret reached out and shook Ichabod's hand, "How's it going?"

"Great," Ichabod replied.

"And yes, Jane, I do have some pot. Would you like some?"

Jane giggled, and nodded 'yes'. She and Ichabod watched as the cross dresser produced a joint.

"Now, you've got to share," Margaret told them, taking a pull herself before passing it to Jane. Jane then inhaled, and passed it to Ichabod.

"Just hold it in your lungs for a bit," she instructed, watching as her friend put the joint to his lips.

Ichabod took a deep breath, and sucked the smoke into his lungs. The night was a blur after that.

_Part 62_

Steve was woken up by his phone ringing. He sighed, and picked up, glancing briefly at the clock on the nightstand. It was 3:14 am. The number that'd came up had been Ichabod's, so Steve had expected to hear his voice, asking for a ride home or something to that extent.

Instead, a woman began speaking.

"Hello, am I speaking to Steven Warner?"

"Yes...Who is this?"

"My name is Amy Catlan, I'm a nurse over at Clara Maas Hospital. I believe we have your friend Ichabod Crane here. Your name and number was under his ICE contacts list."

Steve sat up, and rubbed his eyes. "What? Why's he there?"

"From what we can tell, he was at a party, and he must've had a lot to drink, because the woman here with him found him passed out and vomiting on himself."

"Ugh..." Steve sighed again, "Is he conscious now? I'll be right down..."

"He's been in and out of consciousness."

"Thanks. I'll be there as soon as possible."

Steve hung up the phone, and rubbed Angela's arm.

"Ang, wake up," he said, "We have to go."

_Part 63_

Angela and Steven arrived at the ER twenty minutes later. Both had hastily gotten dressed and run out, trying to get there as fast as possible.

The two walked up to the front desk, and were directed to a room on the second floor. Neither Steven nor Angela was sure what to expect. They opened the door to find three people inside.

One was Ichabod, of course, lying on a hospital bed, eyes closed. A nurse was there, checking his vitals and adjusting an IV. And, in the corner of the room, sat a younger girl with red hair. She was curled up on a chair, crying quietly.

The nurse looked up when she heard Steve and Angela enter the room.

"Hi, are you Steven?" she asked.

"Yes... you're Nurse Catlan?"

"Yes, thank you for coming so quickly. The doctors just left. He's asleep now. We had to pump his stomach, that's why there's so many tubes and such. His BA level was .25 when he came in, which is extremely high."

Angela frowned, and walked over towards the bed. She could see the black traces of charcoal around Ichabod's mouth, left over from when the doctors had worked on him. He had an oxygen cannula inserted into his nose, but otherwise he seemed to be just asleep.

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked.

"Yes. He'll wake up feeling like he got hit by a truck, but after a day or two he should be fine."

"It's my fault," the girl who was crying spoke up. "It's my fault he got sick. God, I'm so sorry..."

"Are you Jane?" Steve asked.

The nurse excused herself from the room to let them talk in peace.

"Yes. I was with him...he was following me. It's my fault." She began to cry again.

Steve took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "What happened, exactly?"

Jane sniffed, and wiped her nose with a tissue, but began to explain. "We were at a party... I wanted to get fucked up, so I got us some shots. Lots of shots... we had two glasses of jack, then we got some pot...Ichabod didn't know what it was, I don't think. He didn't ask but I don't think he expected it... he's so sweet and innocent... but since I smoked it, he did too. Everything was fine for a while, then I wanted a few shots of vodka, so we had some more... then an hour later I found him slumped over on the couch, throwing up on himself. I couldn't get him to wake up and move... so... Brennan and I dragged him out to the hall, and I called 911..."

It was getting harder for Steven to hide his anger, and for Angela it was impossible.

"I can't believe you!," she shouted, "He's innocent. Why would you give him so much?! If we weren't in a hospital I'd deck you."

To Angela's surprise, Jane actually nodded in agreement. "I'd deserve it if you did. I'm so sorry."

"Get out," Steve said, "We'll take care of him from here. Leave him alone. He doesn't need people like you dragging him down."

"Okay," Jane replied, picking up her bag, "I understand."

She paused for a second, taking one last look at her friend in the hospital bed, then left the room.

_Part 64_

Angela remained by Ichabod's side for the rest of the evening. At some point, Steven had gone back home to get some more sleep, but he promised to come pick them up when they were ready to go.

Sometime around dawn, Ichabod woke up. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was. Then he saw Angela. She was sitting in a chair near his bed, curled up and asleep.

"Angela?" he asked. His voice was raspy and his throat hurt... now that he thought about it, everything hurt.

Angela woke up.

"Ichabod," she said, voice thick with sleep, "You're up."

"I feel terrible," he confessed. "Where... where am I?"

"You don't remember?"

Ichabod shook his head 'no', an action he soon regretted. "I don't remember much... ugh, my head..."

"You were rushed to the hospital with alcohol poisoning this morning. The doctors had to pump your stomach to save your life."

Well, that explained the headache and the raspy voice.

"Oh...", Ichabod replied, feeling incredibly humiliated. He couldn't even meet Angela's gaze. She and Steven must've been horribly disappointed in him.

"Yeah. Your blood alcohol level was insanely high. If Jane hadn't called 911 you'd probably be dead."

Angela's words stung Ichabod. He hadn't meant to let things get so out of hand. He'd just wanted to have a good time, and impress Jane.

"I don't know what to say," he finally admitted, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

Suddenly, Ichabod began to feel very sick. Worse than before. Angela saw him begin to pale, and having had experience with him being sick before, she knew what was coming. She reached for a wastebasket and held it out for him, and within a few seconds he was throwing up. His vomit was clear, as there was little else besides alcohol in his system.

As he retched, tears began to form in Ichabod's eyes. He couldn't help but cry.

Angela noticed this, and when he was done, she put the wastebasket down and scooted closer to his bed.

"Why are you crying?" she asked, softly.

"I've disappointed you, and myself. I don't even remember most of the night..." he trailed off, trying to wipe his tears away, "And I feel terrible. I've never felt this sick before..."

Angela nodded. "I'm going to go get the nurse and see if she can help."

She stood up and left the room before Ichabod had a chance to answer.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I've been trying to figure out how to continue this story but am getting stuck. I do have a few ideas – maybe Angie, Steve and Ichabod can go on vacation somewhere, or Angie can get pregnant unexpectedly. Anyway, I'd really love some suggestions or comments about where would be good to go. I'd be more than happy to give credit for any ideas. If you think of anything, please PM me or leave a comment here. Thanks!**

_Part 65_

Ichabod spent the rest of the day in the hospital. He'd been sick several more times, and the doctors had ordered him to be hooked up to more IV's to combat dehydration. Angela waited with him patiently, holding his hand when the doctors poked him with more needles, and rubbing his back when he got sick.

Steve had remained angry for most of the day, but when Angela texted him, telling him how pale and sick and pathetic Ichabod seemed, he'd calmed down. Hopefully going through all of this might convince Ichabod to never binge drink again. He'd ended up coming to the hospital in the afternoon.

By eight in the evening, Ichabod was finally feeling better, and the doctors allowed him to be discharged. The drive home was fairly quiet. Ichabod could tell how angry Steven had been earlier, and even though he was calm now, he still felt uncomfortable.

As soon as they got in, Ichabod went straight to bed. He slept through the night and late into the morning.

_Part 66_

When Ichabod woke up, it was close to 10am. He groaned. He was late to his first class by an hour. Before getting out of bed, Ichabod lay back for a moment. He rested a hand on his stomach, and rubbed himself a little. His stomach muscles were still sore from being so sick the day prior.

After a few minutes, he finally decided to get up. He sighed, and pushed himself out of bed, then wandered over to his closet. He had just pulled out a pair of baggy blue jeans and a black sweater when there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" Ichabod asked.

"It's Angela."

"Come in."

Angela opened the door and stepped into the room. "I just came up because I heard you walking around. I don't think you should go to school today."

"Oh." Ichabod put the clothes down, and sat back on his bed. "Why aren't you at work?"

"I didn't want to leave you alone today, in case you were still sick."

Ichabod felt guilty that he'd caused Angela to miss work.

"You didn't have to do that..."

"I would've felt bad going in and then coming home to find out you were still not feeling well. Besides, we both need a day to relax."

Ichabod nodded in agreement.

"Why don't you come down in a bit and I'll make some breakfast."

"Okay, thank you," Ichabod replied.

_Part 67_

A few minutes later, Ichabod padded down the stairs, still dressed in his pajamas. His hair was uncombed, and sticking up in various directions. He found Angela in the kitchen, making pancakes. It smelled amazing.

"There's some coffee ready," Angela said, hearing him enter the room. "Go pour some and have a seat."

"Thank you," Ichabod said, walking towards the coffee pot. He poured out two cups, one for each of them, and sat down at the table.

Angela soon finished making the pancakes, and put the plate down in front of him. Ichabod took three of them, and began covering them with butter and syrup. Angela took one for herself, and the two ate in comfortable silence.

As the meal came to a close, Angela spoke up.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Ichabod shrugged, and put his fork down. "I guess so."

"You're not sure?"

Ichabod closed his eyes, and sighed. Thoughts of everything that'd happened over the past weeks flooded his mind, and he felt like he wanted to cry. It was getting to be too much. He felt sad, angry, and nervous all at once.

Eventually, he looked back up at Angela. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Seeing how upset Ichabod looked, Angela stood up, and came closer to him.

"Come here," she said.

Ichabod got up, and Angela wrapped her arms around him. He rested his head on her shoulder, feeling a true sense of comfort for the first time in weeks. Soon enough, Angela could feel wet spots on her shirt, where Ichabod was crying quietly. For a minute or so, she rubbed his back, and ran her hands through his hair.

"It'll be alright," she whispered, "I promise."


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I want to say thank you to Dionne Dance, as she **really** helped inspire me regarding the coming parts of this story.

_Part 68_

Back at school, the first thing that Ichabod noticed was that Jane was no longer in any of his classes. She must have dropped them. Her absence allowed him to concentrate more on the school work itself, but he had to admit that he missed her.

On his second day back, the two saw each other in passing in the hallway. Ichabod briefly wondered if he should say anything, but Jane gave him a sad smile and quickly walked away. After that, he didn't see her at all. She must've found other ways to get around the campus.

Often at night, when everyone else was asleep, Ichabod would think about Jane. Sometimes it was sexual, sometimes he just thought about how much he missed her in general. He wondered if she had even cared about him in the first place, but the look of sadness on her face when they saw each other confirmed it. It hurt a lot, to know that they'd never speak again, or at least not until it was possible for them to get over the recent events. That might take years, though. Thankfully, as time went by, he found that he felt better. Not seeing her allowed Ichabod to slowly push her from his mind.

It wasn't until two weeks back that Ichabod saw Brian again. He, too, seemed to be avoiding Ichabod. They'd only met again by accident, outside the college, in one of the more secluded smoking areas. Ichabod had been passing through on his way to a class when he'd noticed Brian standing there.

Brian seemed nervous around him. He'd made small talk and had been nice overall, but he seemed reluctant when Ichabod asked about hanging out some time. Brian had made an excuse about picking up a full time job and being busy, but Ichabod knew what he really had meant. Brian didn't want any more drama, and he feared Ichabod might cause it some way. They'd parted with the agreement that they'd see each other around, but when Ichabod walked through the same area the next day, Brian wasn't there. It didn't take a trained detective to figure that message out, either. Ichabod knew Brian's class schedule for the most part. Like Jane, he'd found another place to go. Another way to avoid any potential confrontation.

Back at home, things had returned somewhat to normal, save the fact that Steve seemed to be constantly working. He'd leave the house before anyone else woke up, and would not return until later in the evening.

One night, Ichabod had questioned him about it. Steve seemed a bit flustered, but had replied that he was working on something called a Large Hadron Collider in an attempt to create a 'God particle', not that Ichabod really understood what that meant.

The next morning, Ichabod had innocently bought up the topic with Angie. They were eating breakfast when he mentioned it.

"So Steve is working on a hadron collider?"

Angie raised an eyebrow. "He told you that?"

"He mentioned something about a God-particle and a Large Hadron Collider, and that was why he was working so late. What's a Large Hadron Collider?"

"Funny, he told me he was teaching extra classes because Dr. Ayer was out on medical leave."

"Oh."

There was an awkward silence, before Ichabod asked another question.

"Maybe he's teaching people how to use the Hadron Collider?"

"The Large Hadron Collider is located in fucking Switzerland," Angie snapped.

She regretted her tone when she saw how nervous it made Ichabod. She was frustrated about Steve's absence, and confused about the weird lie he'd told, but she shouldn't have taken it out on Ichabod.

"Sorry," she said, forcing a smile, "Maybe he was joking with you. Could be some of his weird nerd humor."

"Oh." Ichabod didn't really know what to make of that, but he figured that maybe Angie was right. Steve did have an odd sense of humor, after all.

_Part 69_

Ichabod had forgotten about the conversation by the time classes started. He had an exam that day that'd been somewhat harder than he'd anticipated, and had spent most of the day thinking about it.

The subject was brought up again, later in the evening though. Ichabod had gone upstairs to study when he heard Angie and Steven talking. Well, it was more of arguing, rather, though they seemed to be attempting to keep it somewhat quiet.

Angie had made some snide comment asking how it was working in Geneva, and it'd all gone downhill from there. Steven defended himself saying that it was only a stupid joke, but really the heart of the problem was his frequent absences.

The two went back and forth for several minutes. Ichabod couldn't help but listen to it. Angie finally admitted that she didn't like Steven being gone so often, but he seemed to brush her concerns off.

The argument ended with Steve telling Angie to 'chill the fuck out' and leaving, slamming the door behind him.

It was quiet after that. Ichabod had wanted to ask Angie if Steve was coming back, but thought better of it, knowing that he shouldn't have been listening to them fight. The question was answered the next morning, though, when they came downstairs to see Steve sleeping on the couch.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Another shout out to Dionne Dance. Thank you SO much for all of your help with this!

_Part 70_

Things had been somewhat tense between Angie and Steven since their argument, but it seemed like Angie was trying not to let it interfere with life too much. She kept up the normal routine that she and Ichabod followed, like serving dinner at the same time, even if Steve wasn't there to join them.

One evening, as she and Ichabod were eating, she took out a piece of paper.

"So, I got our annual invite to the university's Halloween party."

It was early October, and everyone around town seemed to be getting ready for the holiday. One house down the street from the Warner's had gone all out, decorating their entire front yard with various props, including coffins with skeletons, fake zombies rising from the ground, spider webs, life sized witches and so on. Some of the props actually moved and talked. Needless to say, Ichabod was very interested in the coming holiday, and had a lot of questions about it.

"I still don't fully understand the purpose of the holiday," Ichabod said. "I did notice the neighbor's… extreme interest in it, though. Most of society opposed the day back in my time."

"Well… Now a days it's mainly just for fun. Kids dress up and go trick or treating, which means they go door to door and ask people for candy. And, as you can see by the Deluca's house, some adults really get into it as well. But if you're asking about the history of it, I believe it has roots mainly with the Celts. It's based off of Samhain, which was the pagan new year. It was thought that the souls of the dead could return and take over the bodies of the living, so they would put out all the light in the homes and dress up in costumes to scare the spirits away."

"So…we'll be expected to dress up for Halloween, then?"

"We'll be expected to dress up for the party at the university. Most people dress up when going to Halloween parties."

"And do we make the costumes?"

"Some people do. We'll go to the costume store and see what's there, and we can do some customization at home."

"Hmm." Ichabod took a bite of his spaghetti, considering what he might want to be this year. "What are you going as?"

Angie smiled. "I'd like to go as the Queen of Hearts. She's a character from a book, and evil queen who beheads everyone she dislikes, and has playing cards as guards."

"That sounds… terrifying," Ichabod replied, shuddering at the thought of people getting decapitated. "Why do you want to be something so evil?"

"Mainly just because of the freedom I have with it. I was thinking of putting some spray in my hair to make it bright red, and maybe paint my face up a bit. I was also thinking of getting a white skirt and wearing the corset I had last year for my costume, and maybe adding some red ribbons. I have a whole vision of it in my mind; I think it'll be rather interesting once it's come together. I think Steve's going as Professor Dumbledore."

"Who?"

"Professor Dumbledore. Er, nevermind. We still haven't shown you the awesomeness that is Harry Potter. Dumbledore's a wizard. A good wizard."

Ichabod raised an eyebrow. "I see. I suppose I'll have to think of something to wear, then."

_Part 71_

The party was held the evening before Halloween, or Mischief Night, as Angie called it. Ichabod had ended up going as a vampire. He'd combed out his hair and wore his 18th century clothes, along with a set of well-made fake incisors in his mouth. Angie had helped him paint on a few drops of fake blood near his lips. With his naturally pale skin, dark hair, and handsome features, he fit the role of a beautiful creature of the night very well.

The group arrived fashionably late, and there were several people already there. It seemed to be a mixture of university staff, their guests, and a few interns and grad students.

At first it'd been fairly nice. Steve introduced Ichabod to a few of his colleagues, and they tried to guess what everyone's costume was.

Things started to go downhill when Angie was talking to Pat about his Batman costume. Steve, apparently bored with listening to the conversation, had gone off to talk to others, namely a pretty young woman dressed as a witch.

Pat eventually went off to talk to other people, leaving Angie and Ichabod alone.

"Well, everyone has some very creative costumes," Ichabod noted, glancing over at the witch. The costume made him somewhat uncomfortable, as it reminded him very much of the witch in the Western Woods.

Angie also looked over at her, feeling somewhat upset over being abandoned. "Yes, they do," she replied.

For a while she and Ichabod continued to talk. Ichabod mainly asked about the costumes that he did not understand, like the guy dressed as Beetlejuice and the lady dressed as Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

They'd paused their conversation so that Ichabod could go get them drinks when the door to the room flung open. Everyone stopped and turned to see who'd come to the party so late. There were a few gasps and some people began whispering amongst themselves.

Having now noticed the general silence, Ichabod turned to find out what was going on. He instantly wished he hadn't. Standing in the doorway was a tall, muscular looking person with a jack o lantern in place of their head. Ichabod's thoughts immediately flashed back to that night in Sleepy Hollow when the Horseman had followed him over the bridge and attacked him. Before Ichabod could register that it was just a costume, his heart started to beat faster, and his vision started to blur. The next thing anyone knew, he had fainted, dropping the glasses in his hands as he went down.

Everyone nearby began to get excited, and a crowd formed around him. One of the professors from the Nursing program came over and kneeled down next to him, trying to figure out what had happened. It took a good deal of effort for Angie to push her way through. By the time she got there, the professor had already made a diagnosis.

"He fainted. We should call an ambulance."

Angie sighed. "No, he has anxiety problems. It happens sometimes."

The crowd once again began to murmur about the situation as Angie and the other professor tried to rouse Ichabod. Angie shook him to wake him up, and after a minute or so he came around.

Seeing this, the crowd began to disperse, leaving them alone.

Then Angie heard Steve's voice.

"Take him home."

"I'm going to have to-" she started to agree, but Steve interrupted her.

"I already called a cab."

The witch was still at his side, and both she and Steve seemed to be looking over the situation with disgust.

"...Thanks," Angie replied, not wanting to start a fight with everyone watching. She looked up to find Steve and the witch had moved on, and were laughing and apologizing to the Horseman.

The Nursing professor helped her get Ichabod on his feet. Angie led him out. She could tell that he seemed embarrassed by the situation, but he had yet to say anything about it.

The cab had already pulled up outside, and the ride home was quiet.

_Part 72_

Ichabod finally started to speak up once they got settled in at the house.

"I'm sorry about all that," he said, quietly. He was sitting next to Angie and they were watching the evening news.

"It's alright. You couldn't control it. I think it was the dean who was dressed up."

It reminded me of the Horseman and I got scared. I know it sounds irrational and childish. But in my time, right before I came here, I was investigating murders that were committed by a headless horseman. He was real, I saw it with my own eyes. I am a logical, rational person. I did not believe the villagers. I thought it was a foolish superstition or a ghost story made up to scare people and hide the true identity of a mortal murderer, but he was real…"

"I believe you, and I understand. It's alright, I'm not upset with you."

The two continued to watch the news until a commercial came on.

"I have a question," Ichabod said, turning to look at Angie.

"Yes?"

"Is it normal for married couples to spend their time with different people at social events?"

Angie was surprised by this question, but figured that Ichabod really was trying to understand it.

"Well... no."

"So you and Steve are different from other married couples."

"Well... I guess so." Angie had noticed how Steve seemed to be spending more and more time 'at work' lately, but had been trying to push it out of her mind. Seeing him with the young woman at the party was a bit much, though. "It's okay, though. You and I got to talk and we had fun for a bit."

"Yes. Sorry again for ruining it."

"You didn't ruin it." Steve had, but Angie didn't want to say that outright. "Shit happens sometimes. Don't worry about it."


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: Thank you to Dionne Dance for all of her help with this! **_

_Part 73_

Steve stayed out all evening after the party. It would be the source of several more arguments between he and Angie, but this did not seem to stop him from doing it again and again. In fact, it seemed like Steve spent more evenings out than he did at home.

Angie was still trying to keep her composure about it for the most part. Not only for herself, but she did not want Ichabod to worry about her.

Thanksgiving was fast approaching, and Angie hoped that Steve would at least join them for that. She was very grateful when he had agreed to go.

On one of the few days that Steve was home, Ichabod had asked about the celebration, wondering what to expect.

Steve had merely smirked and told him not to eat beforehand, and went on to make a joke about having free tickets to the circus_._

_Part 74_

Every year, Angie's family held a huge Thanksgiving celebration at her parent's apartment in the Throg's Neck section of the Bronx. The entire extended family was usually invited, and Enzo often made the trip up from DC to be there as well.

This year was no exception. Angie, Steve, and Ichabod walked in to find over a dozen people crammed into the tiny co-op apartment. Immediately, they were all ambushed with hugs and kisses from various relatives. This was followed by several questions about Ichabod. Who was he, where was he from, etc. Angie fielded most of the questions as Ichabod tried his best to be polite and not have a massive panic attack from all of the attention.

Thankfully for him, it eventually died down enough to where the three could grab seats in the living room.

Steve talked to cousin Angelo while Angie talked to her grandmother. Great Aunt Graciela had latched on to Ichabod, saying something about him looking like her sweetheart that had died in the war.

Elsewhere, Enzo was arguing with his parents, who had decided that it was high time that their single son get married and have children. They had invited a girl he'd known for many years in his youth, stating that she was a "nice Italian girl to start a family with."

Enzo was not pleased with this. The woman wasn't someone that he had ever really liked. Ichabod could hear him protesting this in the next room.

"I can't believe you invited Fat Carla! Jesus, mom, she has a thicker mustache than dad does!"

"She waxed for the occasion!", his mom replied, "And she's under three hundred pounds now! You should see her!"

"She used to chase me up the block in grade school! And middle school! And high school!"

"Lorenzo Dominick Benito Carlo DeLorenzo, come on now! She's a nice woman. She would make a great housewife, and she's already got three kids, so you'd have a good start making us lots of grand babies!"

"I am NOT going to marry Fat Carla, mom. That's final."

"Give her a chance!"

"NO!"

The argument went on and on, both parties often switching over to speaking in Italian. Ichabod caught Angie's eye and they both strained to hold back a giggle. It was quite satisfying to sit back and witness Enzo's discomfort with the situation. Not wanting to insult the family, he managed to hold back the laugh.

Besides, Great Aunt Graciela was still telling him stories. He tried to focus on that.

"You look like my fiancé. He was killed in the Second World War. Did I tell you that?" she asked, for the fourth time. The woman was obviously senile.

"You mentioned it," Ichabod replied.

Aunt Graciela pinched his cheeks, "He was _molto bello_, like you. Ah, poor Giovanni, they said he didn't even know what hit him."

"Oh?"

"He stepped on a landmine. Blew him into a thousand pieces. _Madonna mi_, there wasn't even a body to bring home."

Ichabod shifted around, not really sure what to say to that besides that he was sorry for her loss.

"…He had dark hair, like you, but not as pale," she carried on, "Where are you from, that you're so pale? And you're so thin, too. Well, that can be fixed."

The conversation went on for a while until Mr. and Mrs. DeLorenzo called everyone to the table. It was really two tables pushed together, so everyone had a place to sit. Even so, the dining area was very crowded.

By that point, Fat Carla had arrived along with her three kids. She immediately spotted Enzo and made a beeline for the chair next to him at the table.

Her children sat on the other end, next to Ichabod. With them on one side, and Aunt Graciela, who'd followed him over, on the other, Ichabod felt trapped.

The feast began after a quick prayer, led by Angie's father. Then everyone began to dig in. There were dozens of plates strewn all over the table, containing everything from traditional Thanksgiving turkey to manigot.

Aunt Graziela immediately took to piling food onto Ichabod's plate, while Mr. and Mrs. DeLorenzo, and a few other relatives, began to grill Steve and Angie about various subjects.

"Angela," Mr. DeLorenzo started, "When are you going to be giving us grandchildren? It's been three years now!"

Angela looked at Steve, who shrugged. "We're not ready yet, papa."

"But you'll never be ready! You should start now, before you get too old. You'll want to have four or five, at least."

Steve cringed as the thought of that.

Meanwhile, Fat Carla was making her moves on Enzo, all while chomping on a large turkey leg.

"I'm divorced now, you know," she said, despite her mouth being full. Bits of food flew out as she spoke.

"…I heard," Enzo replied. He was trying not to watch as she continued to gnaw on the meat.

Suddenly, Carla reached under the table and placed a hand on Enzo's leg, slowly working her way up towards his crotch.

"I'm looking for a good man," she whispered.

Now it was Enzo's turn to cringe. He removed her hand, making sure that no one could see what was going on, before speaking.

"Well, I'm down in DC, so…"

"I could move," Fat Carla countered. With her hand now free again, she began reaching for more food.

Down on the other end of the table, Ichabod wasn't having much of a good time, either. The three kids were playing with their food, occasionally wiping it on each other's clothes or hair. The one closest to him, a chubby little girl named Carlita, was also repeatedly poking him, asking him random questions like what grade he was in, and if he liked girls. At one point she'd stated that Enzo was going to be her new daddy. Ichabod didn't quite know what to say to that one.

Aunt Graciela, for her part, was busy forcing as much food as possible into him. She had this strange way of making him feel guilty if he didn't take it, but after two plates it was getting to be a bit much. Even worse, she kept repeating her story about Giovanni and the landmine and pinching his cheeks every few minutes.

The whole ordeal was interrupted, though, when Steve stood up, shoved his chair under the table, and announced that he was going home. He had grabbed his coat and walked out the door before anyone had a chance to stop him.

Angie sat in her spot, looking like she was about to cry, while Uncle Mario and her father explained to the other shocked guests what had just occurred

"I don't know what his problem is, I only asked him if he was having difficulties with his plumbing. I thought maybe that's why they don't have children. It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know..."

Angie sank down, resting her head in her hands and hiding her face. She'd never been more embarrassed.

The family whispered among themselves about the situation, no one else daring to speak out loud.

Then, to top the awkward night off, Uncle Eugenio, who'd been absent during Steve's episode, came out of the bathroom. The old man held a plunger over his shoulder, and it was dripping wet.

"Any of you know how to fix the toilet?" he asked. "Because it's pretty bad in there."

_Part 75_

Since Steve had taken the car when he left, Angie and Ichabod had no way of getting home. This was solved by Enzo, who was more than willing to give them a ride, if only to get away from Fat Carla. They left as soon as it was possible to make an escape without seeming rude.

_Part 76_

The drive back home was quiet at first. Angie was still upset but was trying her best not to show it. Ichabod was in the early stages of a food coma and Enzo was trying to erase the memory of Fat Carla's hand being near his manhood.

Finally, though, Enzo spoke up. He was concerned about his sister.

"Ang, you okay?" he asked, once they passed over the Throgs Neck Bridge.

Angie shrugged. "Can't say that I am."

"Steve's an asshole for doing that. I don't care what Uncle Mario asked him, there's no reason for him to get up and leaving during Thanksgiving."

Angie didn't know what to say. She also feared that if she opened her mouth, she'd start sobbing, and she didn't want that.

After a few more minutes of driving in silence, Enzo spoke again.

"You know, you can always come stay in DC with me if you need to get out," he said, "For however long you would like."

Angie nodded, then looked over at Ichabod. He was resting his head against the window, apparently asleep. Even if she wanted to go stay with her brother, there was no way she could take Ichabod with her. She didn't feel like bringing the subject up, though.

"Thanks, Enzo."

It wasn't long before they pulled up in front of Angela's house. The lights were off, and the car wasn't in the driveway, so it was clear that Steve was still out. Angie gently shook Ichabod to wake him up. The two then thanked Enzo for the ride back home, and made their way inside.

_Part 77_

Even though it was somewhat early, and he had slept on the drive home, Ichabod was extremely tired. He had contemplated going up to bed when he realized how sad Angie looked. Not wanting to leave her alone, he took a seat near her on the couch.

"Are you okay?" he asked, softly.

"No."

"I take it that what happened tonight is not normal?"

Angie rolled her eyes. "Do you _think_ it's normal, Ichabod? I know you're from a million years ago but use your brain, will you?"

Ichabod was somewhat taken aback by the snippy replied.

I just meant... I don't understand how anyone could walk out and leave someone as special as you." Angie noticed that Ichabod was looking at her, straight in the face. He seemed entirely serious.

For the first time that evening, she smiled.

"Thank you, Ichabod. I think you're really awesome too."


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Thank you to Dionne Dance for inspiring this story and also helping review and edit it! She's the best!**

_Part 78_

Steve did not come home until mid-morning the next day. It was clear that Angie was still upset, but she had yet to say anything to Steve about it. Ichabod could feel the tension between them, though, and it made him uncomfortable.

Thankfully Angie had offered him an escape. As it was Black Friday, she wanted to go to the stores and see what deals there were. Plus, getting out would help take her mind off of the situation at home. She asked Ichabod if he wanted to tag along, and he had jumped at the chance.

The first place they had gone to was a local Wal-Mart. As Angie had expected, the store was packed.

"Do you think you can handle this?" she asked Ichabod, as she parked the car. She knew he sometimes got nervous in large crowds and didn't want him to faint in the frantic mob of bargain hunters.

Ichabod didn't really like the idea, but he did want to make Angie happy. If shopping with a million other people made her happy, then he'd make an effort to deal with it.

"I think I'll be alright," he answered, opening the door.

"Okay. Just let me know if you want to leave or anything."

The two walked up to the store only to find that the lines were stretched around the building.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Angie said. It would take hours to get out at the rate the lines were moving. "Maybe we can do something else."

"Okay," Ichabod agreed.

"I know! Let's go into Manhattan! I bet they've started decorating already. It's nice enough outside to walk around for a bit."

Ichabod hadn't gone into Manhattan since the time that he'd been there with Enzo. The thought of going back made him nervous. Angie picked up on this quickly.

"Or we don't have to go," she said, "We can go home."

Ichabod shook his head. "No, no. Let's go. I'll be fine." 'It's time I overcome this fear anyway', he thought to himself.

So they headed towards Manhattan. During the ride over she turned on a station that played only Christmas music. It was the first time that Ichabod had heard the songs, but he immediately found himself enjoying them. They made him feel happy, for some reason.

"That's why they play them," Angie explained, "They make people happy. Puts them in the Christmas spirit. Most of us learn these songs as kids, so hearing them as adults brings us back to when we were young and excited for Santa to come."

"Who is Santa, anyway?" Ichabod asked. He'd heard the name in several of the songs.

"Fat guy in a red suit. Flies around on a magic sleigh and brings presents to all the good little boys and girls. Oh, and elves make the presents. He lives at the North Pole."

Ichabod looked at Angie like she had six heads.

"He can't possibly be real," Ichabod said. Then again, he hadn't thought the horseman to be real either.

"He's not real. Little kids think he is though. You'll see pictures of him and people dressed up like him as we shop. Historically he's St. Nicholas plus a mix of Dutch and German folklore. Do you know anything about St. Nicholas?"

"He used to give gifts to people secretly. He also brought people back from the dead. And I think he punched a bishop once."

"He punched a bishop?"

"Yes, I remember reading that the bishop Arius was arguing that Jesus was not equally powerful as God above, and St. Nicholas became enraged and punched him."

"Wow."

"He was an interesting person."

"Sounds like it."

They made it into Manhattan within an hour. Angie parked at Port Authority so that they had easy access to Times Square.

Like the previous time he had been there, Ichabod noticed many people walking around. However, this time there seemed to be a slightly better mood among the crowds. People were being a little bit nicer.

There were decorations everywhere, as Angie had said there might be. Port Authority was decorated with a Christmas tree here and there, along with some artifacts from other religions.

The two walked to Times Square, where crews were starting to put up Christmas lights on various structures. Angie stopped to let Ichabod get a good look around. Now that he wasn't being forced to shove his way through groups of people to keep up with someone, he felt calmer. For the first time he noticed how amazing Times Square really was. There was a giant screen broadcasting commercials in the center of it all, and huge buildings surrounding it. It was bright, and loud, and almost overwhelming, but in a good way.

"Neat, isn't it?" Angie asked, after a minute.

"It's amazing."

Angie smiled. "Glad you like it. We can go hit a few stores, and get some dinner if you like."

Ichabod smiled back at her. "Sure."

Angie led the way through the hustle and bustle of the streets, bringing them to a Toys R Us.

"I know it's for kids, but it looks fun," she explained, holding the door open for him.

Like the Walmart they'd been at, there were large lines, but since the store was bigger, it was spread out a bit more. They didn't intend to buy anything anyway. Angie just seemed to want to look around.

It was much warmer inside the store, and the place was lit up with different colored lights. A huge Christmas tree stood not far from the door, decorated from top to bottom in glittering tinsel and ornaments. A large star crowned the top of it. It flashed in various colors, changing every few seconds. Ichabod only tore his eyes away from it when Angie took his hand, leading him further inside.

"What's that?!" Ichabod asked, after they'd walked a bit. They'd come to the center of the store, where the Ferris wheel was.

"That's a Ferris wheel. They decorated it as well!"

Indeed, the ride was covered in lights. They watched as it rotated, bringing people to the very top where they could see the entire store.

"Wow...", was all Ichabod could say. He'd never seen anything like it before. It was clearly a ride for children, but it still looked awesome. Angie noticed that Ichabod was intrigued and made a mental note to get him out to an amusement park when the weather turned warmer.

"If you think that's cool, come see this!" Angie said, grabbing his hand again. She led him over to a giant replica of a T-Rex, with a Santa hat on top of it, of course. There was a lot to see there, and neither noticed the time going by as they looked around.

_Part 79_

When they finally stepped back out of the store, it was getting dark. A light snow had begun to fall as well.

"Ah, it's beautiful!" Angie exclaimed, looking up to the sky. "Nothing beats Christmas in New York."

It made Ichabod smile to see Angie looking so happy.

"It is quite nice," Ichabod agreed.

The two ended up walking along the streets, trying to find a place to eat. They wandered for a while before coming to a small cafe. After several cups of coffee and an hour of talking and laughing, they left. It was the most fun day either had experienced in a long time


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Thanks again to Dionne Dance for both reviewing/editing this story and helping to inspire it!**

Ch. 21

The next few days were busy. Angie had been getting ready for Christmas, doing her shopping and decorating, while Ichabod had been spending every spare moment studying for his finals. To an extent it was good that they had so much going on. It distracted everyone from the rift between Steve and Angie. Still, some reminders could not be avoided. For instance the fact that Steve had been staying out almost every night, and sleeping on the couch when he got back in.

December 2nd started out as a normal day for Angie. When she arrived at work, there was a note on her desk asking her to see the principal immediately. Worried that something was wrong, Angie walked cautiously into Mr. Harrison's office. She felt better, though, when she saw the look on his face. His eyes were twinkling, and he was smiling.

"Angie," he beamed, "I have the most exciting news to share with you."

"Yes?" Angie asked.

"I received an e-mail this morning from The New York State Education Department. Apparently some of your students submitted a proposal to the Learning Technology Grant Program. You have won Teacher of the Year for New York State!"

Angie's jaw dropped. In September during a class discussion, several students had complained about the obsolete technology on campus. Angie had encouraged them to take action and see if they could come up with plausible solutions. She never dreamed they would do something like this, though.

She felt tears welling in her eyes and smiled. With all of the tension at home, this was a welcome boost of self-esteem. Besides being a huge honor for her personally, the award granted ten new computers for the library! Angie could hear Mr. Harrison continuing to talk in the background; something about announcements at school assembly. She nodded numbly when he mentioned presenting her award at a reception in the library after the computers were installed.

Angie was so shocked that she forgot she was angry with Steven. As she walked back down the hall she called him to share the news. Steve was excited for her.

"Oh Ange," he said, "You so deserve this. Why don't you, me and Ichabod go out to Calandra's tonight to celebrate?"

Angie agreed, and Steve made arrangements to meet them at the restaurant at seven.

Angie spoke to Ichabod next.

"I'm not surprised at all" he told her. He was so proud that his confident constable voice came through over the phone. "It would be an unforgivable crime had they given the honor to someone else. Look at the fine job you've done educating me!"

Later that day, Angie received another message to come down to the office. On the front counter was a precious miniature Christmas tree decorated with tiny toys and cardinals. The card read "Congratulations! You'll always be a very special teacher to me." Angie sighed, wondering if Steve was finally trying to make things right.

00

After work, Angie was excited. Calandra's was an upscale Italian place, one of her favorites. She took her time getting ready, making sure her hair and makeup looked just right. She looked over her wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear. She had been giddy with happiness all day and wanted to carry that feeling of being special and appreciated on to dinner. And Steve seemed to be back to normal! A simple but elegant black dress caught her attention. It would be perfect. She grabbed a pair of strappy heels to go with it, and found some earrings and a necklace to complete the look.

It was hard for Ichabod not to stare at her as she walked down the stairs. Angie was naturally pretty, but he had only seen her in casual work clothes, or dressed down when doing housework. The feminine attire and excited sparkle in her eyes made her look downright sexy. Trying not to be awkward, Ichabod smiled at her and simply told her that she looked nice before following her out to the car.

00

At the University, Steve looked up from his work and saw that it was almost 7:00. He started to shut down his computer and flinched when a flash of red hair blocked his vision. Rachela slid onto his lap.

"Ready for dinner?" she purred in a low, sultry voice. She reached up to put her hands on his shoulders.

Steve looked a little uncomfortable. "I won't be able to have dinner with you tonight. I have to take care of something," he said, not looking her in the eye.

"Would that something be your wife"" asked Rachela with a sneer.

"Ah, come on babe, don't be like that. It's a family thing," Steve whined.

"When are you planning to tell her about us? You said you would take care of it at Halloween!" she snapped, as she jumped from his lap and paced angrily around his desk. "I'm beginning to think I mean nothing to you. Maybe I should call Angie for a little girl talk."

Steve stood up, an angry expression on his face. "You'll do no such thing. I may want to be with you now, but that doesn't mean I don't care for Angie. I just want to let her down easy."

"Men! You are all such cowards. Always wanting to have it both ways. Let me tell you, mister. It doesn't work that way!" Rachela said, leaning right into his face.

"Come on, Rachela, it's not like that," Steve told her firmly. "Angie just won a prestigious award. It's a big deal. Now is not the time. I promised to have dinner with her and Ichabod to celebrate."

"I don't understand you, Steve. It's almost like you enjoy sitting at home watching her fawn over that fainting, time traveling freak." Rachela turned her back on Steve and smirked, hoping to plant in his mind the thought that Angela might not be such a perfect angel. "You've got me now. I don't understand why you can't face facts and get on with your life."

Steve looked confused. He did not like what Rachela was insinuating. He felt guilty that Angie had remained the loyal, sweet, loving wife, even though he knew she had to suspect something was going on. He just didn't want to break her heart. Ichabod's arrival had been a blessing. His childlike vulnerability and urgent need to learn about modern life kept Angie occupied and off his back about working on their relationship.

Rachela had come on to him after enrolling in his class a year ago. They would meet up in his office or at a hotel occasionally for a hook up, but it had been nothing but sex, just a good time. Then, she had jumped at the opportunity to intern on Ichabod's project. The long hours had intensified their attraction, and now they never missed an opportunity to get together.

Steve had been flattered by the attention at first. He had begun to feel trapped in his marriage, and enjoyed his free spirited time with Rachela. Lately, however, she had started getting clingy and possessive. He assumed it had something to do with her hormones. Just two months ago, she'd announced to him that she was pregnant. Now Steve had even less time to leave Angie. At the same time, Rachela's actions made him wonder if he wanted a relationship with anyone anymore.

She really was getting scary. He even had to leave Thanksgiving dinner at the DeLorenzo's early because she texted him, threatening to come knock on the door and join them.

His thoughts then drifted to Ichabod. What would happen with him? His colleagues who had worked on the project last summer were fascinated by him and always asked for updates on his progress in this new world. He was almost positive Ichabod would stay with Angie if they broke up. Steve knew he would miss the extra attention that finding Ichabod had brought him in the physics world. What would his friends think?

"Cut the crap, Rachela. Tonight I'm going to be there to help Angie celebrate her award." He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. "Not without me," Rachela growled, as she skittered dangerously on her high heels down the hall behind him.

00

Ichabod and Angie got to the restaurant at five to seven, and were seated at seven exactly. Then, they waited.

Seven fifteen came, and Steve still hadn't shown up.

"Maybe he's caught in traffic," Ichabod said, trying to make Angie feel better.

"Maybe," she replied. The two made small talk for another thirty minutes, before their waiter came over for the third time, asking if he could take their order.

"I guess he's not coming," Angie said, sadly. "Let's just order."

Steve showed up at 7:50. Once Angie had seen him walk through the door, all of her anger melted away. She was just happy that he'd managed to show up for her special night.

That happiness was replaced with hurt, though, when she saw the young woman walking in with him. She had long, dyed red hair, and like Angie, she was dressed in a black dress, though hers left little to the imagination. Steve led the woman over to their table, and pulled out a chair for her.

"Sorry I'm late," he addressed Angie. "This is Rachela, by the way. Rachela, this is Angie and Ichabod. Rachela's car broke down, and she stopped by my office just as I was leaving to ask for a ride home. I invited her to join us for dinner."

Ichabod instantly recognized Rachela as the woman who had been dressed as a witch at the costume party. Though she made him uncomfortable, he did his best to remain polite when she shook his hand. It wasn't just that Rachela reminded him of the witch of the Western Woods. Something about her body language was off. He sensed hostility towards Angie. And after she was seated, she had complained about a draft, and asked Steve to switch seats with her so she was in between him and Angie. Ichabod's detective instincts began to kick in. He didn't trust this woman.

"I know you!" she said, looking at Ichabod. "You're the one who fainted at the Halloween party!"

Ichabod blushed. "Yes, that was me."

"And you're a teacher, I suppose?" Angie cut in.

Rachela opened her mouth to speak, but Steve beat her to it.

"Rachela is one of my graduate interns. She helped us on Ichabod's project last summer and she's currently writing a thesis on the negative helicity of W bosons."

"O...kay," Angie replied, unsure of what that meant.

There was an awkward silence, only broken when the waiter bought Angie and Ichabod's food.

"We weren't sure if you were coming, so we ordered at 7:30," Angie explained.

"Oh, it's no problem." Under the table Rachela was tracing her index finger along the inner seams of Steve's trousers. He looked at her, and half smiled, and she looked back at him and did the same.

For the next twenty minutes, Steve and Rachela groped each other under the table while sipping their drinks. They seemed to be in their own little world, though Steve did try to make an effort to talk to Ichabod and Angie on occasion.

Still, it made Ichabod angry that Steve had brought Rachela to Angie's special night. He attempted to remind everyone of the reason for this occasion.

"So, Rachela" Ichabod started, "Have you heard that our Angie here has been honored as Teacher of the Year?"

Rachela rolled her eyes and looked at Angie with a smirk. "Well, it must be nice to win ___that_little popularity contest. What did you have to do to get your students to vote for you?"

In her mind, Angie was thinking '_well at LEAST I didn't have to sleep with any of them'. _The normally meek Ichabod suddenly felt very protective. How could anyone be so rude to Angie?

He could feel his face flushing as his temper rose.

Trying to remain composed, Ichabod glared at Rachela for a minute before he could trust himself to speak calmly. "It wasn't a local popularity contest," he said, with a trace of indignity in his voice. "Angela was selected for recognition above all of the teachers in New York State. This award has allowed the school to totally refurbish the library's technology center. It will have a plaque honoring Angie's contributions!"

Rachela rolled her eyes again and huffed, "Yeah, I get it. Good job."

"That's fantastic, Angie. I know you deserve it," said Steve, looking at Angie warmly.

"I'm finished with my drink, Steve," Rachela said flatly looking bored.

Steve looked a little embarrassed and began making excuses to leave. "I have to give her a ride home," he explained, standing up. "I'll see you back at the house later. Congratulations again on that award you won."

Angie watched, stunned, as Steve helped Rachela into her coat, and walked out with her. She suddenly realized that the beautiful tree she had received at work was not from Steve. She turned to Ichabod and in a small, quiet voice said, "I loved the tree, and thanks for just being here. I'm glad someone thinks I'm special."

Then the pain returned once again. It took everything Angie had not to cry right then and there at the table. Seeing Angie hurt made Ichabod anxious. He started to feel hurt too. He didn't want her to be upset. She didn't deserve the way she was being treated. He leaned over and put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a hug. Angie paid the bill, and they drove home in silence.

00

That evening, as he lay in bed, Ichabod couldn't help but think of everything that had happened at dinner. Steve had always been good to him, but the way he had been treating Angie was cruel and disrespectful. It made him angry and resentful to an extent. The man had a kind, smart, beautiful wife, and he was throwing her away for a cheap piece of trash. Angie was worth so much more than that. She deserved better.

He drifted off to sleep that night, thinking of Angie. The way she accepted his anxious nature, took care of him when he fainted, and didn't make fun of him. He dreamed of sitting on the couch with his head on her shoulder after a nightmare, her arms wrapped around him. The scene shifted and became more sensual. She walked into his room wearing her black dress from earlier. She started taking it off, and pushed him back on the bed. She started stroking his hair, and rubbing his back and belly the way she had when he was sick.

Ichabod startled himself when he moaned with pleasure in his sleep and sprang up in the bed. What if Angie heard him? He started to get anxious and hoped he didn't talk in his sleep. Guilt invaded his mind. He should not dream that way about his married friend!

He could not settle down and go back to sleep. He was so frustrated that he started to panic, and then he looked down.

Oh…so that was the problem.

He was very aroused. Ichabod sighed and quietly took care of his problem, unable to stop thinking about the dream during the process.

It was only after he got up to shower that he began to analyze his feelings. Ichabod suddenly realized that when Angie was in his arms, he truly felt happy. He felt contempt make its way into his thoughts. What had he ever done to earn her respect? She saw him as a child, backward and superstitious because of his stories of horsemen and witches.

He froze while reaching for the soap, startled to recognize that since his arrival, he had allowed a part of his mind to become idle. Probably the shock of his journey, and waiting to return home. Home. The cold truth that this was now his world hit hard. How had he allowed himself to become totally dependent upon two strangers? Ichabod finished his shower and stepped out onto the rug. As he started to dry off, his mind snapped into action.

The most rational thing that he could do at this point was help Angie. Steve's behavior was unacceptable. As he pulled on his robe, he grabbed a journal from his desk and began to make notes. His detective skills were coming out of retirement. After transcribing his thoughts, he put the journal in his nightstand drawer and leaned back against the headboard, twirling a piece of wet hair around his finger. A full scale investigation would begin in the morning. He fell asleep wondering what was going on with Steve and Rachela.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Thanks again to Dionne Dance for both reviewing/editing this story and helping to inspire it!**

Ch. 22

Steve and Angie still had to go to work, but Ichabod had started winter break. He thus decided to use his time home alone to his advantage.

A few minutes after Steve had left for the day, Ichabod came downstairs. His first investigation would be looking into Steve's email. Ichabod knew that Steve kept a list of all of the computer passwords in the desk drawer, and he was able to find Steve's email password pretty quickly. Ichabod almost laughed at it. For someone with so much education, Steve was really lax about securing his emails.

It seemed like everything in Steve's inbox was work related. Messages from the dean of the college, messages from colleagues, notifications about upcoming events at the college... Ichabod was about to give up when he noticed that all of the inbox subfolders were not displayed. Maybe Steve kept personal messages there.

Ichabod clicked on it and read the list. He caught site of a folder labeled "personal" and clicked on it, but was disappointed to see that it was filled with PTO request responses from Steve's supervisor.

'Damn,' Ichabod thought to himself, feeling very disappointed. But then something else stuck out. A folder titled "Helocity Thesis". Ichabod remembered Steve mentioning that Rachela was working on a thesis about the helocity of W boson particles, or something to that extent. He clicked on it and smiled. There, in the folder, were several emails all from Rachela. All of them seemed to be incriminating.

_'Dear Steve-_

_Thank you for the incredible bath and massage last night. I can't decide whether it's more exciting to get dirty or clean with you!'_

Ichabod rolled his eyes and opened another one.

_'Steve-_

_I completely forgot to wear underwear today. Silly me! ;-)_

_See you later?'_

All of the emails were similar, and they went back several months. Clearly Steve had been seeing Rachela for a long time.

Ichabod began to consider where else he could look for information. When he had been a constable, he had often gone to a local park to sit and think things over in a calm environment. If it worked then, it might work now.

00

Ichabod had to take two buses to get to Central Park. By the time he got there, it was midday. The weather was unseasonably warm, and there were many people out walking around. He took a seat on a bench. A few feet away, a group of children were playing.

Ichabod took out his notebook and began reviewing everything that he had learned.

Rachela had worked with Steve on the project last summer, so the two had known each other since at least that time. According to the emails, they seemed to have started getting intimate around late July. Ichabod tapped a pencil against his knee, thinking back to last summer.

Hmmmm, July….that was around the time the university people had attempted to send him back home. Surely if Rachela had worked on the project she would have been there that day. He seemed to vaguely remember some interns in the background, but hadn't paid much attention. He had been preoccupied with anxiety over whether the process would work, and a little down about leaving Steven and Angie.

Ichabod tried to focus on those early days in Queens, wanting to analyze exactly when he had noticed a change. He could remember that the couple had often stayed up late watching television together, but after a while, Steve was gone all the time.

The clear blue sky and the warmth of the sun on his face had him drifting to thoughts of how Angie had been such a comfort when he had first arrived. He jolted out of a doze when a ball bounced off his leg. Ichabod looked up to see a familiar face.

Fat Carla's daughter Carlita was standing there, staring at him.

"Hey, I know you from Thanksgiving!" she said. Then she realized that she had hit him with the ball. "Sorry about hitting you." The little girl blushed.

"It's okay." Ichabod picked up the ball and handed it back to her.

Carlita smiled at him, then ran back to join the others.

Ichabod picked up his notebook, intending to start reading again, when someone else came over.

"Hey Ichabod!"

It was Fat Carla. She was standing near him, holding a hot dog.

"Oh, hi...Carla, was it?"

"Yup. Did my kids hit you?" She took a bite of the hot dog.

"It was an accident. It's no big deal."

"I figured. They're good kids."

Ichabod noticed that Carla was staring at the bench that he was sitting on.

"Do you want to sit down?" he asked.

"Sure. So, what are you doing here? Don't you have class or something?"

"I'm on winter break." Ichabod didn't think it would be right to tell Carla all about what was happening with Steve and Angie, so he decided to lie. "I just came to enjoy the day. Don't your kids have school?"

Carla finished her hot dog before speaking. "They're on winter break too and I pretty much make my own schedule, so I figured it would be fun to take them out today." Carla began to unwrap another hot dog.

"Ah. Where do you work?"

"I run a driving school. It's a small business. Since I'm the boss I work when I want."

"That's interesting," Ichabod replied.

Suddenly Carla stood up and looked into the distance, a scowl crossing her face.

"Hold this," she said coldly, thrusting the new hot dog into his hand, focusing intently on two women across the way.

"That pregnant witch better not even _think_ about touching my little Carlo!"

Ichabod turned to look at what she was staring at. He was shocked to see Rachela, of all people, bending over and shaking her finger at two small boys who were running in circles, gleefully blowing bubbles all around her. Another young woman was pulling at her elbow, unsuccessfully trying to convince her to keep walking.

"Do you know her?" Ichabod asked, curious as to why the good natured Carla had suddenly become so protective.

As they watched, Carlita, ever the charmer, smiled at Rachela and pulled her brothers away. "Carlo, Cosimo, let's go! Maybe mama will let us feed the ducks."

"I don't know her but I saw her earlier at "Toys R Us" Carla relaxed seeing that her daughter had the boys under control. She took the hot dog from Ichabod as she sat down again. "Oh, sorry, would you like a bite? Jimmy has the best dogs in the park!"

Ichabod blanched and politely declined. Leave it to Fat Carla to be on good terms with all of the food vendors. She continued "We saw her shopping for baby furniture when we ran in to buy bubbles for the park. Then we were behind her in line. Gave the woman ringing us up a real hard time."

"How so?"

"She started cursing and yelling about how slow the cashier was going. The woman had to be like eighty years old. She got so loud that the store manager asked her to leave! What a bitch."

Rachela's actions did not surprise Ichabod at all. She definitely came off as a nasty woman.

"So you think she was rude because she is pregnant? She doesn't look pregnant."

"Oh, yeah, she definitely is. She caused a scene, made sure the whole store knew. Yelled that she would be in labor by the time they finished ringing her up."

Ichabod tried his best not to look totally stunned. Things were starting to make sense, now. Maybe this was why Steve had been so upset at Thanksgiving, when Angie's relatives had been questioning him about children.

"I feel bad for whoever the father is," Carla said, interrupting Ichabod's thoughts.

Ichabod nodded in agreement.

"Now, you know who I bet would be a great father?" Carla changed the subject.

"Who?"

"Enzo! He's a catch for sure. I've had a crush on him since the third grade and let me tell you, he's only gotten better with age!"

Ichabod had to smile. The thought of Enzo as a father was a little frightening to him. It was funny how much Carla loved Angie's brother.

"He seems nice enough."

"He's great."

Ichabod thought for a moment. "Since you've known Enzo for so long, do you know much about his sister Angie?"

"Oh, yeah. We all went to elementary school and high school together. I met Enzo through Angie, actually."

"Really. Were you close with her when she met Steve? I'm just curious. They don't talk about their past or how they met too often."

"We weren't close but I remember when she met him. See, Angie was friends with Michelle Carcia who was best friends with my sister so I kinda got dirt on Angie from time to time. They met a long time ago. She was around eighteen, I think. They met at the university."

"He was a student there? He's a lot older."

Carla smirked. "No, he was a professor. Angie's Science professor. Apparently she used to come after class for extra help and they got along real well, so they started dating. They had to keep it secret for years, until after she graduated, because they didn't want a scandal."

"Wow, that must have been tough."

"Eh, I think they were okay with it. They got married a month after she graduated, from what I remember. I think Angie's parents wanted a big Italian wedding but since they didn't want to draw attention to the marriage, it was very low key. Her parents weren't too happy about it at all. They didn't have an announcement in the newspaper or anything, and he only started admitting that they were married within the past few years."

"Wow. I don't remember Angie ever mentioning someone named Michelle."

"Well, they drifted apart after she and Steve got married."

"That is interesting," Ichabod said. He didn't want to write down any notes in front of Carla, lest he let on that he was investigating Angie and Steve.

"So," Carla said, "I haven't been in touch with Enzo much since after college, except for Thanksgiving. You seem to know him well though."

"I guess you could say that."

"Would you mind putting in a good word for me?"

Ichabod had to smile. "Er...I can try to, yes."

"Great, thanks!" Carla grinned.

Just then, Carlita, Carlo and Cosimo ran over.

"Mama, can we feed the ducks?" Carlita asked. "The mean lady got mad at Cosimo for blowing bubbles at her. Said it ruined her silk shirt." The little girl frowned.

"Some people are just miserable," Carla replied. "You can go feed the ducks. Here," she took out a small bag of bread from her purse, "I brought this along just in case. Share with your brothers!"

Carlita took the bag, and seemed about to walk away with her brothers when she stopped and looked over her shoulder, shyly.

"Ichabod, will you come feed the ducks with me? Please?"

The little girl looked at him with big, sad eyes and held out her hand. Ichabod looked at Carla, who smiled at him. "Go play with them," she urged.

Feeding the ducks won't be so bad, Ichabod thought to himself. At least she didn't ask him to play kickball or something like that, and it seemed to make both the kids and Carla happy.

"Sure." He put his notebook in his backpack and stood up, then followed the kids over to a small creek.

Once there, Carlita took a piece of bread out of the bag and divided it up between herself and her two brothers. She then handed half a piece to Ichabod.

The four of them began feeding the ducks. As they threw bread at them, the ducks got out of the creek and walked closer and closer. This amused the kids, and they bent down to feed them.

Ichabod looked over and noticed that he, too, was attracting some birds, but they weren't the cute little ducks that the kids had near them. Instead, a group of geese was making its way towards him. Before he could get out of the way, the intimidating army of birds was within two feet of him.

"Nice... goose," he said quietly. He threw a piece of bread far away, hoping that the geese would turn around. They didn't, though. They kept their eyes intently focused on the bread in his hand. One, particularly aggressive, took a step forward, and looked him straight in the eyes. Ichabod took a step back, and the goose followed. Resigned to the fact that the goose was going to follow him until he fed it, he threw a piece of bread at the goose's feet. The goose ate it, then looked at him again, and hissed. He took another step back.

Soon enough, Ichabod was out of bread. He dusted off his hands and said "Look, all gone, no more…" his voice trailing off as he noticed the geese were silent and staring at him. Suddenly, it was as if the leader had given the silent command to charge. Ichabod's eyes widened as he found himself being chased from the creek by a swarm of geese. One of them reached him, and nipped at his pants, as the others honked on in encouragement.

"Agh," he yelled, waving his arms trying to get away. The whole time, Carla and the kids were giggling hysterically at the sight. Other people in the park noticed the commotion and stopped to watch and were laughing as well.

Finally, he reached the bench where Carla was.

"A little help?" he asked, out of breath.

Carla rolled her eyes and stood up. She looked at the group of geese, and shouted at the top of her lungs: "GET THE FUCK AWAY!", then began swinging her arms wildly at them. This scared the geese enough to cause them to scatter and run. She turned to Ichabod and gave him a lopsided smile, "You can't let them smell fear".

"Thanks," Ichabod said, leaning on the bench. He couldn't believe running the few yards from the creek had made him so short winded. Although his strength had always been academic rather than physical, he was concerned that modern life was making him weak. He made a mental note to ask Angie's advice in this matter later.

"No problem. Glad you're intact and didn't get trampled. I needed a good laugh." Carla was still shaking, trying hard not to burst out again at the spectacle he had made running like Jack Sparrow away from the geese.

"Right." Ichabod could feel his face turning red with embarrassment.

Carla noticed, and rested a hand on his arm. "Aw, don't worry. I won't tell anyone. A friend of Enzo's is a friend of mine."


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Thanks again to Dionne Dance who helped inspire this story!**

Ch. 23

After Ichabod had calmed down, he and Carla parted ways. She went off to go feed the ducks with her kids, and Ichabod headed towards Counter Culture. He was hungry, and it wasn't far from the park. Angie had mentioned that she liked the food and atmosphere, so he decided to check it out.

He walked into the café only to see that Rachela and her friend were there as well. The two were just sitting down at a table with some coffee and desserts. Ichabod realized that this could be the perfect opportunity to find out more about Rachela and Steve's relationship. He couldn't draw attention to himself, though.

Ichabod bought a cup of coffee and a muffin and took a seat at a small table a few feet away from where Rachela and her friend were. It must have been Ichabod's lucky day, because they already seemed to be talking about Steve.

"The thing is, I like the kinky stuff, but that's all that he seems to want to do. He doesn't consider my needs at all. Sure it feels great to him to have that turkey baster full of hot sauce squirted up there, but do you know how much it burns my hands?!"

Ichabod nearly choked on his coffee when he heard this. Rachela's friend glanced over at him and smirked. Ichabod made sure not to make eye contact with her, but he could see her in his peripheral vision.

"So he's into that? Hot sauce in the bumhole?" the friend asked.

"That's one of the punishments he gets if he's bad, and he loves to be bad."

"Bad?"

"If he doesn't do as I say he gets punished. He's into a ton of kinky stuff. The hot sauce is one of the more normal things."

Rachela's friend raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask?"

Ichabod could hear Rachela laughing.

"You'd never believe it."

"Try me."

"He has this game he likes to play, when we have sex. Whoever ends up on top is the daddy and whoever is on the bottom is the mommy. After we have sex the mommy has to pee on a pregnancy test to make sure they aren't pregnant."

Rachela's friend's jaw dropped. A few feet away, Ichabod's ears were turning bright red.

"You're serious?"

Rachela nodded. "And he always makes sure he's on the bottom."

"Holy fuck. That's weird. I'm sorry, but it is."

Rachela shrugged. "His wife thinks so too. She wouldn't do it with him. She wouldn't do a lot of things. Not even the basic stuff, with the ropes and whips. I mean, it's really not that hard to make a body harness. Takes like five minutes. She didn't try at all. That's why he's with _me_."

"Well, if you're willing to do it…" her friend trailed off.

"Yup. Anyway, I have to get going. I'm supposed to be at the doctor's for a sonogram in an hour. We'll catch up next week?"

The friend nodded in agreement. "Sure."

Rachela stood up, leaving her friend behind to clean up all of the trash. At his table, Ichabod quickly bent his head over his notebook. He tried his best not to look up at Rachela as she left. He cringed as he noticed a bottle of hot sauce on the table. Ichabod was glad to know that Angie had refused to take part in Steve's weird games, even if she was miserable that her husband was ignoring her. He noticed a pattern. Steve was very selfish and inconsiderate, with both Angie and Rachela.

Ichabod's thoughts were swirling from the new information and the questions it generated. His hand flew over the page as he quickly recorded his observations and questions. Hmmm…Fat Carla witnessed Rachela screaming about being pregnant. Rachela is impatient and irritable around children, so why would she want to have any? Steve prefers weird sex, not meeting Angie or Rachela's needs. Steve wants to be a mommy? Can a man be a mommy? What is a pregnancy test? Why would Steve pee on one? Why would _anyone_ think hot sauce up the…er, well, why would anyone think that felt good?

Ichabod finished his coffee and walked to the bus stop to start the trip home. He decided his next step would be to research pregnancy, sonograms and weird sex on the internet. He didn't want to ask Angie anything that might make her suspicious or make him look stupid. Hopefully she wouldn't catch him reading up on kinky sex. He would hate for her to get the wrong idea.

00

Ichabod made it home just as Angie was pulling into the driveway. The two walked into the house together.

"So how was your day?" Angie asked.

"It was alright. I went to Central Park and ran into Carla." Ichabod had decided not to mention that he had seen Rachela. He would gather more information and then find a way to discuss it with Angie later.

"Oh? Did you have fun?"

"It was… interesting. I got chased by some geese." Ichabod looked embarrassed. He could feel himself blushing.

Angie couldn't help but laugh.

"Really?"

"Yes. Carla shooed them away but everyone saw me running and laughed."

"You have to admit it_ is_ pretty funny."

"It was. I was very tired after running from them though… it makes me think that I've become weak. Maybe because of all of the conveniences of modern life."

"Hmm." Angie was walking around the kitchen, looking for pasta to make for dinner. "That makes sense. You know, you could always go to the gym on campus. Maybe you could build up your endurance by running on the treadmills there. You'll probably be in shape in no time."

"That's a good idea. I've seen the gym but never been in it."

Angie smiled at him. "Give it a shot. Let me know how it goes."

00

The next morning Ichabod went to the campus. Since the classes were not in session, the place was deserted, but the gym and some of the other facilities remained open.

Before he had left, Angie had packed him some sweat pants and a t-shirt to wear. He went into the building, intending to find a locker room to change his clothes in.

After walking down the hall for a few minutes, he noticed a young woman with dark, shoulder length hair walk out of a room. She was dressed in workout clothes and looked very athletic. She would likely know where the locker rooms were.

"Excuse me," Ichabod said, coming closer to the girl. "Do you know where the locker rooms are?"

"Oh, the men's locker room is down the hall and on the right. It has a big sign that says "Men's Locker Room" on it. You can't miss it."

"Thanks!"

"Sure," the girl replied, and the two went their separate ways.

00

Fifteen minutes later Ichabod was in the gym itself, trying to figure out how a treadmill worked. He pressed a button, but all it did was light up. Nothing else happened. He pressed another, and the treadmill made a loud beeping sound that made him jump a little.

"Do you need help?" a voice asked.

Ichabod turned to see the woman he had met in the hallway looking at him. She was on the treadmill next to his.

"Yes, please. I hope I didn't break it."

The woman paused her treadmill and stepped off. "These things can be a little confusing. I'm Michelle, by the way. I help out part time in the gym to help pay for my tuition

As Michelle began hitting various buttons, Ichabod noticed her student ID. It was clipped to her workout pants and it listed her name as Michelle Carcia.

"I'm sorry, but your ID says that your name is Michelle Carcia. You wouldn't happen to know someone named Angie Warner, would you? Or Angie DeLorenzo? That was her maiden name."

"Angie! Yes I know her! We were good friends back in the day." Michelle pushed one more button, and the track on the treadmill began to move at a slow pace. "By the way, you can make it faster by pushing this," she said, pointing to a button with an arrow on it. "That's start, this is faster, this is slower, this is stop."

"Thanks," Ichabod answered. He began to walk, and Michelle got back on her machine and walked next to him.

"I take it you know Angie too then?"

"We live together, actually."

"Wow. Did she finally dump Steve then? Good for her. I always thought she was too good for him."

"No, they're still married. I'm sort of a roommate."

"Oh okay. I haven't seen her in forever. Not since college. I wish we could catch up. I got married a few months ago and am getting my real estate license… hence why I'm here. I would've told her about the marriage but we sort of stopped talking when things got serious between her and Steve."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Ichabod wasn't sure what else he could say.

"It is what it is. Is she happy, though? I tried to warn her about him, what with him dating all those other girls before, but I do hope she is happy."

This was interesting information. Ichabod made it a point to try to learn some more.

"She's… well, I don't think all is well between them, but I may be wrong." Ichabod didn't want to tell Michelle something about Angie then have Angie find out somehow and get upset. "You said that he was with other women?"

"Yeah. He had other girlfriends before Angie, all younger women, students of his. I think Angie was the first one he was really serious with, but before her he was dating a few girls at once."

"I didn't know that."

"I'm sorry," Michelle said, stopping the treadmill. "I don't want to give you a bad picture of Steve. From what I could see he always treated Angie pretty nicely. But I did try to warn her that he liked to screw around, that something was off with him."

"You're a good friend to do that," Ichabod replied.

"Thanks. Well I've got to get going. Tell Angie you ran into me, will you? Tell her my number's still the same if she wants to get in contact. I miss her."

"I will. It was nice to meet you."

"Same here. Wait, what was your name again?"

"Ichabod."

"Right. Ichabod. Interesting name. Until next time, then."

Michele walked off, leaving Ichabod to ponder the mysteries of the treadmill and his dilemma regarding the investigation.

There was so much information to process after only two days! Things were much worse than he had imagined. How much did Angie suspect? How did he get himself into such a predicament, just trying to help someone he cares about? Tell Angie and she might go into denial and lash out at him for bringing bad news, or worse, think he is lying. She might get angry at him for poking his nose into her business.

Anxiety from his thoughts and the exertion of his workout made Ichabod's heart race and sweat drip from his brow. Thankfully, he managed to make the machine slow down and stop without any embarrassing incidents. Ichabod sighed and headed for the locker room. He had to find a way to tell Angie the truth. It was going to be unpleasant for both of them, but he owed it to her. Ichabod quickly got dressed and made his way home.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Thank you to Dionne Dance for all of her help with this!**

Ch. 24

When Ichabod got home he found that once again, Angie was just pulling in. As they had last time, the two walked into the house together. Ichabod noticed that today, Angie seemed distant, as if something was bothering her. She still asked about his day, though.

"So, how did it go at the gym?" Angie was busy unpacking some of the papers that she had brought home to grade.

"I used the treadmill. And I met someone who knows you."

"Oh? Who was that?"

"Michelle Carcia. She said that she was friends with you when you both were younger. She was on the treadmill next to mine and we talked."

Angie seemed slightly taken back by this, and nodded her head. "Yes, we were friends."

If it were possible, Angie seemed to pull back even more after that. She turned her attention to her papers again, and it was clear to Ichabod that she didn't want to discuss the subject any further.

Seeing that Angie needed some time to herself, Ichabod excused himself to go use the computer.

00

In the other room, Angie finished unpacking her things and sat down at the table. She had been feeling depressed all day. Steve had been out all night again, and she had finally admitted to herself that their marriage was likely to end very soon. Then when Ichabod had mentioned Michelle, it brought up other thoughts.

The last time that Angie had seen Michelle was a few months before she and Steve had gotten married. She and Michelle had gone for a girl's night out, and Michelle had warned her, once again, to watch out for Steve.

She knew that Michelle meant well, but at the time, it really made her upset. Now, though… now she was wondering if Michelle had been right all along.

Well, there was one thing that she could do. She could dig for the truth. Maybe nothing was going on. Maybe something was. Either way, she had to know for sure, and she knew just the person to ask for help.

00

As soon as Ichabod heard footsteps behind him, he closed out of the internet browser. He had been looking for information on sonograms, but he didn't want Angie to see it.

"Hi, Angie," he said, forcing a smile at her.

"Hi."

The two stared at each other for a few seconds, before Angie spoke up again.

"Do you think we could talk in the other room, please?"

"Sure," Ichabod replied. He stood up and followed her into the living room. The two sat down on the couch next to each other.

Angie was staring down at her hands, as if nervous about something.

"I have a favor to ask of you," she finally said, still not looking up.

"Anything."

Angie took a deep breath. "I want you to see what Steve is up to. I know it's probably not good. I know it's probably going to hurt. But I need to know the truth."

Ichabod hadn't expected that request. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. On one hand, he was relieved. It justified the snooping around that he had been doing. Angie couldn't get upset with him for his findings if she was the one that asked him to investigate. On the other, Angie was definitely going to get hurt. There was no doubt about it.

Angie looked at him, waiting for an answer.

"I… yes, I can do that. But I have to warn you, I will have to ask you some questions that may be difficult to answer."

Angie nodded. "That's fine."

"Okay. Give me a moment." Ichabod stood up, and went into the other room. He grabbed his notebook and pen from his bag, then returned to the living room. "Alright." He opened the book to a blank page. "When did you and Steven start having marital problems?"

"Um." Angie continued to stare down at her hands. "Around January of this year."

Ichabod wrote this down. "Did anything change in your relationship? Or did you argue about anything?"

Angie bit her lip. "Yes… but… I'm not so sure that you'd like to hear about it. It's a bit graphic, for lack of better words."

Ichabod thought back to what he had heard Rachela say earlier. Nothing could top that, or so he thought.

"No, it's alright. You can tell me."

"Okay. Well… You see, Steve is into some very strange things."

"Such as?"

Angie looked up at him. "He has some strange sexual predilections."

Ichabod nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"It's weird. He likes weird things. He likes to be tied up, and beaten. He likes it when a woman calls him names, and hits him, and cuts him. He likes to see his own blood. He enjoys pain."

Ichabod blinked, and forced himself to remain calm. He wrote down what Angie had said.

"And you had an argument about this?"

"Well. You see, it all started out normally. Sure, he liked to be choked during sex sometimes, but that's somewhat normal. I've met other people who enjoy it as well." Angie could see Ichabod's eyes growing wider. "So, anyway. That was fine. But then, as time went on, he wanted me to do different things. He bought metal handcuffs and a whip – a real whip – that he wanted me to use on him. And I did. I figured it would stop there."

"But it didn't?"

"No. Then he started getting into this whole thing where he wanted to be punished, more than physically. Psychologically, too. He would want to play games. Like he wanted me to force him to pleasure me, and if he didn't succeed in giving me an orgasm within two minutes, he was to masturbate and come on my feet, then he wanted me to make him lick it off."

Ichabod's jaw dropped for the second time that day. He couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry," Angie said, "I can see that you're bothered by this."

Ichabod blushed and did his best to regain his composure. "No, no. It's just strange, as you said. It's hard to imagine Steven enjoying or expecting ___you_to enjoy something like…like ___that_."

"Right. Well I didn't want to do it. Then he said that he couldn't get off doing normal sex anymore, so we haven't done it in a while. Since around February."

"Ah. I see." Ichabod scribbled in his notebook. "My last question is if you think he is having an affair."

"It's pretty obvious that he is, wouldn't you agree?" Angie answered.

Ichabod jotted this down, and closed his notebook. "Yes, well, we'll find out for sure soon enough."

00

The next day was Angie's last before her school started break, and Christmas Eve was only a week away. Ichabod wondered how the holidays would go, considering all that was going on.

For today he decided to follow Steve to the university. Classes were not in session, but Steve had been going in every day to work on a project, or so he said.

Ichabod took the bus to the university in the morning. Steve had left an hour prior. Like the community college had been, the university was also quiet, all of the students having gone home for the holidays.

It didn't take long for him to find the staff parking lot. Steve's car was the only one in it.

Seeing this, he began walking up the path leading to the main building. It took a little bit, but eventually, he managed to find the Science wing. Ichabod had no doubt that Steve's office was somewhere in that area.

After searching the first floor and finding nothing but classrooms, Ichabod took the stairs to the second floor. This one looked to have several offices. Quietly, he walked down the hallway. Most of the doors were closed, but up ahead, one was very slightly ajar.

Ichabod managed to sneak past it and get a look at the nameplate. It read 'Steven Warner, PhD'. Then, he heard a voice. It sounded like Steve. As quickly as he could, Ichabod opened the door to the next office over, then closed it quietly. He leaned up against the wall in an attempt to hear what was being said.

"Come on, don't you want it?" A female voice asked. Ichabod recognized it as Rachela's.

"Make me fight for it," Steve replied.

Rachela laughed, then there was the sound of items being thrown around the room, and something falling against the floor. It sounded like the two were wrestling.

"Got you!" Rachela yelled, "Now you're mine."

"I surrender," Steve said, "Now punish me for being so weak."

Rachela laughed again, then there was silence for a few seconds.

Then the sounds started again. Moans, sighs, and a few "fuck yes's" apparently coming from Steve.

After what felt like forever, the pair apparently stopped.

"That was fucking awesome," Steve said.

"Of course it was. You're lucky that I make it so good for you, considering what a weak, bad boy you are."

Ichabod couldn't help but roll his eyes. They just didn't stop.

"Let's head out. Is your place okay? I don't know if Angie or Ichabod are home," Steve asked.

"It's free. Let's go."

Ichabod heard the door to Steve's office open and shut, then heard the couple's footsteps head down the hallway. Having a good view of the parking lot from the office that he was in, Ichabod looked out the window a minute later. He saw Steve and Rachela walking out together, hand in hand. Before they could get into Steve's car, Ichabod took a photo of them with his cellphone, to use for proof later.

00

The incident at the university had made Ichabod angry. Angrier than he had felt in a while, really. He wanted to punch or kick something. How DARE Steve do something like that to Angie?! And with someone like Rachela, of all people! He had assumed that the two were having an affair, but actually having proof of it changed everything. He was disgusted with Steve's behavior. What a selfish coward, tying Angie down in a lonely, loveless marriage. Using up her youth while he is out engaging in activities that could ruin his career! Now he had a true reason to resent Steve, besides being a little envious that he was married to a great girl like Angie and didn't appreciate her.

He decided to go to the gym to work off some of his frustration. Maybe some physical exertion would help.

By the time he went home, got some workout clothes, and made it to the gym, it was well into the afternoon. Ichabod walked in to find that there were only three other people there: Michelle, who was working the check in area, another staff member, and some big buff guy lifting weights in the corner.

"Hey," Michelle greeted him, "How's it going?" She took his student id and scanned the bar code on it.

"Fine, I guess," Ichabod answered. He felt a little better now that some time had passed, but he still felt kind of aggravated. Still, it wasn't his place to talk about what was going on with anyone other than Angie.

"Do you need any help? Pretty much everything is free today."

"Maybe I'll try that," he said, pointing at the leg press.

Right then, the other staff member walked over, carrying a box.

"Uh, Michelle?" she said.

Both Michelle and Ichabod looked at her.

"Remember that lady who pulverized the other lady for using her favorite elliptical machine? She sent you another one." The girl handed the box over.

Michelle sighed and accepted it. Ichabod looked at her curiously.

"There was a lady who wanted to use the elliptical machine on the end of the row and another woman was on it. She pulled the woman off and beat her til she was bleeding. Long story short, security had to come and we banned her for life from ever coming back, so now every month or so she sends me one of these."

Michelle held the box up so that Ichabod could see through the front. A snake pushed its head through the bars and hissed at him.

Ichabod moved back a step, but didn't say anything. Michelle and the other employee watched as all of the color drained from his face. A second later, he was on the ground, out cold.


End file.
